Foundling
by downtonabigail
Summary: Robert and Cora make a temporary agreement to board the recently orphaned young daughter of one of Robert's war compatriots. With their own three girls grown and soon to be married with families of their own, Cora discovers she harbors hesitations about letting the young orphan be given up to a foundling home. (There's some definite Cobert in this one but probably no heavy smut!)
1. Chapter 1: The Letter

_Chapter One_

Cora thought it odd that Robert had said very little all evening. Sybil had been making ample conversation throughout dinner, but Robert appeared distracted. He didn't even share his usual knowing glance at Edith when Mary began her litany of "all-things-amiss" with Sybil's ambitious arguments. Cora, exasperated by the girls and deeply concerned about Robert, excused herself before the meal had concluded and went upstairs for bed.

O'Brien helped her disrobe just as Cora was about to ask her if she, too, had noticed Robert's deeply sullen mood, his lordship himself appeared in the doorway.

"I'll be through in a moment's time, milord." O'Brien crooned, taking a small liberty, thinking he must see that she was only halfway through unraveling Cora's corset.

"O'Brien, if you wouldn't mind excusing us I'm sure I can assist Lady Grantham in preparing for bed."

Cora smirked, her back to him, but when she didn't hear a scoff from O'Brien and felt her hands release the ribbons behind her back, she turned. Robert's expression was not jovial. It was peculiarly worn, almost gray with worry. O'Brien pardoned herself and shut the door to the bedroom softly behind her. Taking her place, Robert took the ribbons in his hands and held them for a moment, not moving to undo them.

"Robert, what is it?" Cora said, turning to face him. He had not let go of the ribbons and they pulled against her chest. Cora let out a startled cough and the suddenness of it seemed to bring Robert out of whatever storm raged behind his eyes.

"Oh - Cora, darling, I'm terribly sorry." he said, letting the ribbons drop from his hands.

She cocked her head to one side, trying to read him. "Please, tell me what's the matter. Has someone passed? You look as perfectly worn." Reaching behind her she wriggled around for the ribbons, attempting to loosen them the rest of the way on her own. Robert moved to help her, then let his hands fall back toward him in a surrender. In all actuality, he didn't have a clue what do with the satin strands that held her in.

"I received some troubling correspondence this morning, my dear. From a war comrade of mine." He moved toward the window, looking out over the estate. It was late summer and where the nights had been long and tinged with pink light, they had suddenly turned and were growing shorter minute by minute, the evening light fading to a humble amber. "This man's name was John Brody. He and I exchanged friendly letters over the years since we were in Africa together. He had a difficult time when he returned home. He didn't have any family - I thought, perhaps, he may have been much younger than he said he was. After he returned he did settle down, a wife and a -" he stopped, his voice catching. He turned toward Cora who, having managed to wiggle out of her corset while he was talking, was now seated on the bed in her underclothes, looking at him intensely.

"A child, Robert? Do they have children?"

He nodded, crossing the room toward her. Sitting next to her on the bed, he took her hands. They were pale and soft, nearly translucent with blue-hues of veins. Though they were so small, they were warm and they relaxed him.

"They have a young daughter. Her name is Amelia." he cleared his throat, "I received a letter this morning from a lawyer who says that John and his wife both succumbed to fever. The same fever, I think, that nearly took you."

Cora's eyes locked on his, becoming damp and wide. "Oh, Robert."

"She's become a ward of the court. From what I understand there was a small parcel that came along with her when she left her home- and in it were some letters that I had written to her father. The lawyer, of course, wrote to me to tell me of his passing and. . .to inquire about what is to be done with the child."

He let his head, heavy with sadness, drift down toward his chest. Cora brought a hand to his face and stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"Cora, I'm afraid that the lawyer has misinterpreted our correspondence. We, of course, have no relation whatsoever to the Brody's. But there were no other letters - it appears as if I was the only one who wrote John with any meaningful frequency. The lawyer wonders if. . .if we would take Amelia."

He looked up at Cora slowly and without moving his head - it was almost as though he lacked the strength. She brought her other hand to the other side of his face and lifted it up to meet her gaze.

"Oh, my darling, this is why you have been so solemn today." she said with a sad smile.

"I wanted to tell you as soon as I read the letter but I found myself needing to reading multiple times just to comprehend what it said." he thought a moment and then departed her embrace. Reaching into his coat pocket he pulled out an envelope. He unfolded it and as he did, Cora noticed that his hands were trembling. He cleared his throat and began to read from the letter, ". . .the child's name is Amelia. She is a beautiful child who is strong and has already learned many skills of value to a young person of her station. She is due to be sent to the foundling home, as she has no surviving family. I have enclosed her photograph. If you could agree to take the girl on she could avoid going into the orphanage, which I'm afraid are overrun as it is. I admit, Lord Grantham, that I imagine she'll be lost to the fray." He took a faded photograph from inside the envelope and regarded it for a moment before handing it to Cora. Taking it from him, she felt her heart swell as she looked at the girl- the child- of which the letter spoke.

"The letter goes on to say that she would do well to come on as a young maid, perhaps even in the kitchen within a few years." Robert continued, seeming to have finally gotten his bearings now that he had confessed what had been weighing so heavily upon him.

Cora wrinkled her nose, confused. The child in the photograph? Working in the kitchen? Or even doing maid's work? "Robert, how old is the girl-" she stuttered, "Amelia?" The name felt odd against her lips - not marvelous and wide as she had first said _Mary, _nor confident and calm as when she had first said _Edith - _but maybe, it was a bit like the swell of love and sweetness that she felt when she said _Sybil. _While unfamiliar on her tongue, she felt that she could learn to love how Amelia sounded.

"The lawyer says she turned six at the beginning of the summer." Robert said, matter-of-factly.

"Six?" Cora said, leaning toward him, "She's still so little- just a little girl. We can't bring her on as a maid!"

Robert cowered and Cora thought he might have begun to turn red in the face.

"Cora, I'm so sorry. I should not have even suggested it." he brought his finger to his temple and closed his eyes, "We have three beautiful daughters of our own, a house full of devoted help, our extended family and an estate to tend to. To think that we had any room for a child- a child we hardly know, is simply absurd." He reached for Amelia's photograph and put it back in the envelope along with the letter. Cora laid her hand on the top of his thigh and shifted closer to him on the bed.

"Darling - wait." she hushed, "I only mean to say that we can't in good conscience bring such a young child on as a domestic." she paused, meeting his eyes. "If we are to take the child in we are to take her in as a child."

Robert wasn't sure he understood and Cora could see that. She reached up and pushed a cowlick of graying hair across his forehead. "What I mean to say is that we should bring the child here to love, not to put to work. This man, Mr Brody, obviously thought very highly of you. Your letters meant so much to him that he kept him - and the little girl, bless her, knew that they had meant something terribly important to her father so she ensured they were not lost to her."

Reaching up to grasp her hand, he brought it to his mouth and kissed her fingers tenderly. "Cora, my darling, I sometimes think your heart is bottomless." he stiffened, letting her fingers fall delicately from his mouth, "I don't know if this is the right thing to do - I don't know what people - what Mama -would say on the subject."

"I think you should at least write to the lawyer charged with arranging Amelia's care. Have her brought to Downton. If we could meet her, perhaps, then we would know."

Robert nodded, tossing the envelope on his night table. He turned back to her and took her face gently in his hands. He wanted to thank her but he couldn't find the words. Instead, he laid a soft kiss upon her forehead and she knew.


	2. Chapter 2

Mary spoke first.

Robert and Cora weren't surprised by this, of course. Whenever they shared news, thoughts or concerns with their three daughters Mary was almost always the first one to speak up. Though she heard Mary's voice ring out of the silence that had fallen between them when Robert had told them about Amelia, Cora had looked instead at Sybil. As the girls had grown up, Mary had routinely felt slighted because she was the oldest, though, she usually unleashed her furies upon Edith. Though Edith had grown accustomed to taking the brunt of Mary's edge, she managed to keep a level head about most troubles that had befallen the Crawley's in years past. Sybil, the baby of the family, was less predictable than her two older sisters. Cora found herself most interested in how she would react to the news that they wanted to take in a young charge.

"Papa, you know absolutely nothing about this girl - and very little about this man, Mr. Brody. Don't you think it odd that he regarded you with so much affection when, in your mind, he was no more than a casual correspondence?"

Mary had already set about bemoaning the prospect with her natural skepticism. Edith, who had cocked her head curiously at the suggestion looked to be forming a supportive argument. Sybil, however, did or said nothing. Cora wasn't even sure she had taken a breath.

"Now Mary, I would appreciate if you focused less on the nature of my relationship with Mr. Brody and thought in broader terms about the well-being of his young child, as this is the true matter at hand that we need to consider." Robert said, offering the letter and photograph to Mary for inspection. She took it, begrudgingly, and Edith leaned over to inspect it as well. While they were sufficiently occupied, Cora leaned forward to further inspect Sybil, whose face had fallen.

"My darling, you haven't made a peep. What do you think?" she cooed, reaching a hand across to take Sybil's. Meeting her mother's gaze, she blinked away the dampness that had come into her eyes.

"Mama, it's all terribly sad. That poor girl."

Cora nodded, moved by her daughter's sweetness. At times, Sybil's ideas about her life and, really, the lives of everyone could overwhelm Cora - who, though far more liberal than her English counterpart was still deeply rooted in the tradition of Downton- but Sybil's empathy and sense of purpose found in other's pain made her heart fill with pride.

"I think we have to take her in," Sybil sniffled, "I don't want her to go to an orphanage!"

Mary scoffed, "Sybil, you are at times insufferably sensitive. For all we know this child is perfectly bratty and, if she's anything like her father, entitled."

Robert smacked his hand loudly against the arm of his chair, "Mary, that is enough!"

Cora jumped at the sound of Robert's raised voice, bringing a hand to her chest. He turned away from the girls and looked at Cora, his face softening.

"John was a very good man. He served his country selflessly, made an honest wage and supported his family. It doesn't matter to me whether he was an Earl or no more than a cobbler - his values are quite in line with my own." he turned back to the girl's, particularly Mary, "I would hope that your Mama and I have instilled in you girls a sense of humility when it comes to helping others." he looked over at Sybil, who had begun to fully cry, the intensity of the previous moment having rocked her. "Sybil, it would appear, has more heart than any of us."

He snatched the letter and photograph from Mary's hands and rose, crossing the room to his desk where he took a seat. "Mary, sometimes I wonder what has made you so cold."

Remaining firm in her convictions, Mary lowered her gaze. Cora exhaled slowly and turned to Edith, who still had not spoken.

"Edith, what do you think?" she ventured, her voice low.

"Honestly, Mama - not to give Mary any undue satisfaction, but I tend to lean toward her skepticism of Mr. Brody. I think we ought to at least inquire further into the situation before we decide." she looked up beyond Cora to her father, who appeared to be listening but refused to look at the girls. "Papa, I don't see the harm in bringing her here. It would give us all a chance to become a bit more educated before we pass judgment." she turned purposefully to Mary who rolled her eyes in response- but did appear to be considering her sister's words.

Cora looked at her daughters - Mary, whose dark gaze had begun to soften at the edges of her face, as though perhaps she did feel a bit of remorse about her coolness even if she wouldn't give them all the satisfaction of admitting to it. Edith, whose face was open, level and willing. And Sybil, whose love for all creatures great and small poured out of her without abandon. After a moment, Cora rose and went to Robert, standing behind him at the desk and placing a hand upon his shoulder.

"Robert? Will you? Will you write to the lawyer and have him bring the girl?"

Looking at his daughters, then panning his gaze up to Cora, he nodded definitively, reaching a hand across his body and up to her hand, bringing it down into his lap.

"Yes, I'll write him this afternoon."

From across the room, Sybil's sniffles had begun to subside, though she did squeak out a small mew of relief. Edith, seemingly pleased at her ability to be a mediator, contentedly sipped her tea.

And Mary, her eyes still narrowed, sat motionless and deep in sighed, regarding Mary with the same distant fascination as she had since she was a child, as small as Amelia perhaps. It wasn't that Mary was cold-hearted, though she hardly expected Robert to understand. Mary was not cold, just deeply loyal- something Cora took pleasure in realizing had come straight down the Crawley line from Robert to his eldest daughter.

Robert's inability to see it in her was no different than his inability to see it in himself.


	3. Chapter 3

* Just a quick note: First, thank you all so much for your kind words! I have been quite sick and sad of it, so things have been slow moving. Please forgive me if this isn't as strong as earlier chapters, or if there are things glaringly wrong with it - I may not be intellectually ready to dive back in but I so wanted to continue to take this journey with Amelia - that being said, yes, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland was published in 1865. Just as it is still beloved to little girl's today, I'd like to think that it was magical for dear Amelia, also.

Amelia couldn't be sure, but as she and her temporary guardian, the lawyer Mr. Ralston arrived at the front of Downton, she supposed that the people who lived here might be royals. The home was so large, much bigger than any home she'd ever seen near where she lived. Mr. Ralston had told her on the journey here that she was not to speak unless spoken to, was always to address the man as Lord Grantham and the woman as Lady Grantham. The younger daughters, if they were there, were to be called Lady Mary, Lady Edith and Lady Sybil. Amelia's head was already spinning- she was afraid she'd never remember all these rules.

Mr. Ralston had told her to wear her nicest dress and make sure her hair was nice and clean. In the orphanage where she had been staying, though, it had been very hard to avoid dirt. Even though she sat very still all morning while she waited for Mr. Raston's car, she did notice that there was a small patch of dirt on the side of her nice pink dress and it made her very nervous. Maybe she could sit in such a way that no one would notice.

The car shuddered to a stop and Mr. Ralston grabbed his leather briefcase. Amelia felt nervousness tumble in her belly and she suddenly missed her mother very much. Her mother had been so pretty, with hair the color of honey and toast and green eyes, just like hers, that sat like two emeralds under long, fine lashes. Amelia wondered where she was, where her papa was? She knew they weren't coming back, that they had gone to died - and that died was a place you did not return from. But she still wasn't quite sure _where _it was at all.

Taking her hand and helping her down from inside the car, Mr. Ralston hurried her along the drive and to the front door, where a stern looking man stood waiting to greet them. Amelia wondered if this was the Lord.

"Mr. Ralston, I presume?" the voice bellowed. The man was very tall and had almost a hawk's face. He only gave Amelia a cursory glance before ushering them inside. This, she thought, could not be Lord Grantham.

As she stepped into the abbey, she felt like the princess in a fairy tale story her mother would tell her. There were so many rooms - and lights, lights coming from everywhere and they weren't candles. They were almost too bright, in fact, and it took her eyes a moment to adjust to the scene around her. There was enough furniture, she thought to fill every house in her neighborhood- with some left over, in fact. Why did so few people need so many things?

"Mr. Ralston, for your lordship," the man said as they entered a large book filled room. As she stepped inside she suddenly felt very, very small. It was like in the story her mother read to her - about Alice who goes to Wonderland and becomes very tiny- then very big! Amelia felt so little in this room that she wondered if someone could step on her.

There were only two other people in the room, and Amelia reasoned this must be Lord and Lady Grantham. The man came toward them immediately with a big smile. He shook Mr. Ralston's hand and then looked down at Amelia. She swallowed nervously. She remembered - she was not to speak.

She hoped he didn't notice the spot of dirt on her dress.

"You must be Amelia." he said, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Amelia nodded, but didn't speak. Suddenly she forgot completely what she was supposed to call him and she was afraid she'd get it wrong. She wanted to smile but her face felt frozen. The woman, who had been sitting but now suddenly appeared beside the man, looked at her with kind eyes.

"Thank you for bringing Amelia to see us, Mr. Ralston. I hope your trip was comfortable." she said, smiling down at Amelia. Her smile was like mother's smile, Amelia thought, she smiled with just her lips - not her teeth - and suddenly visions of her mother filled Amelia's mind and she could think of little else- particularly not the rules that Mr. Ralston had told her earlier.

"Won't you come and sit down?" The man said to Mr. Ralston, leading them to a settee just opposite the one where the two had been sitting when they came in.

"You're very kind to have us here, Lord Grantham." Mr. Ralston said, _Grantham! Lord Grantham! _Amelia thought - _that's it, now, I mustn't forget again! _

"As you know, Amelia's father and mother succumbed to fever not long ago and she has been temporarily placed in my care. You'll recall the letter I sent you, Lord Grantham, wherein I implied you may have maintained a relationship with Amelia's father - after you served together?"

Lord Grantham nodded, "Well, yes, we did keep up friendly correspondence but I'm afraid it was quite casual - and I had not seen him since we parted after we returned home. I knew very little about his life, except that he -" he paused, flicking his eyes to Amelia for a moment, "He had a rather difficult time after we came back. But, I'm sure that his family helped to ease that transition immensely."

"And you know that Amelia has just turned six and she will be a ward of the state now that her parents have perished. There is a foundling home, where she has been staying temporarily that will accept her, but I'm afraid to say it is rather overrun and ill-managed, and if there is any alternative I would certainly like to explore it. As I mentioned in my letter, Lord Grantham, the girl is extremely bright and would make a most excellent maid-in-training. She could perhaps be in the charge of a younger housemaid who could use her to assist with some laundering, lite cleaning. But she will learn quickly and she is quite competent, even though she is small." he looked over at Amelia with a hint of affection, "I dare say that she could hope to become a fine lady's maid someday."

Lord Grantham nodded, but before he could reply, Lady Grantham spoke,

"I don't think we would employ her as a maid, Mr. Ralston. Though I'm certain she's perfectly capable." she looked directly at Amelia- the first person to do so since they had sat down. Amelia felt awash with love for her dear mother, and she could sense that this woman too would be very nice to her. But by the way everyone had stopped talking, and she could now hear a faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the house, she sensed that perhaps she would not be staying here after all.

* * *

Cora looked at the young girl and her heart ached. How could anyone suggest that such a tiny child be a housemaid? Perhaps it was the way things were done - as Robert was also so quick to point out - but it wasn't the way she wanted things to be done at Downton. She wouldn't think of employing a child to do anything of the sort. The little child needed to be safe, first and foremost. And certainly that should have been everyone's first thought. She turned to Robert and saw that he, too, had turned his gaze to the child.

"Robert, if we are to take the child we will take her as a child- not a domestic." she turned to Mr. Ralston, "If you don't mind, Mr. Ralston, might we have some time alone with Amelia? You are welcome to go into the parlor with Carson, who has some tea for you."

"Or brandy," Robert interjected. "And after we've had a few moments, we'd like to introduce Amelia to our girls. Then we'll bring you back in."

Mr. Ralston seemed somewhat taken aback, but he acquiesced. It certainly wasn't his place to decline their request - and besides, after the last week and this trip, he rather liked the sound of a brandy.

"Very well." he said, rising and following Carson out into the hall. The door shut softly behind them and Amelia, who had turned to watch him leave, now looked rather expectantly at the two adults in front of her. Someone else's parents, yes. And maybe perfectly nice ones. But not hers.

"Amelia, darling, it's so nice of you to come visit us." Cora said quietly, "We know that this is a sad time for you and you must feel scared."

Amelia looked down at her lap. That stain was, though she had tried to hide it, still perfectly visible.

"You know, Amelia, we have three daughters. They are quite a bit older than you." Robert said, seeming a little awkward with the girls' silence. "They are named Mary, Edith and Sybil."

Amelia perked up a bit, "Lady Mary, Lady Edith and Lady Sybil?" she said quickly - as though if she didn't spit it out while she remembered, she would surely forget. Cora laughed.

"You are very bright, Amelia. I should think you like to read." she said, standing and holding her hand out to Amelia. Tentatively, she took it, allowing Cora to lead her across the room to the book-lined walls. "Do you see all these books here? You would be allowed to read as many as you please. Books are lovely, aren't they?" she looked down at Amelia, "Did your mama ever read you stories? Do you have a favorite?"

Amelia wondered if this woman, _the lady, _if she would read stories to her or if she would have to read them all by herself. She wasn't nearly as good as mother had been.

"Alice," she said meekly, "The girl who goes down the rabbit hole."

Cora smiled, looking over her shoulder at Robert. "Robert, don't we have _Alice in Wonderland _upstairs in the nursery? I rather think it was one of Sybil's favorite's too."

Robert looked at her puzzled. It very well could be there, but he certainly didn't know. He realized, though, that Cora wasn't really asking him- not to fetch it, anyhow, she just wanted Amelia to feel comfortable.

"If I recall it was a favorite of the girl's. I'm sure we have a copy stashed somewhere." he said, "Now, Amelia, perhaps you should meet our girls." He rose and headed for small string on the wall, which he pulled. After a moment, the man who had brought her and Mr. Ralston in appeared in the doorway, as if by some magic.

"Yes, your lordship?"

"Bring Lady Mary, Edith and Sybil down if you would please, Carson."

"Presently, your lordship."

With that, the man disappeared again. All the coming and going was making Amelia even more nervous- and she began to wonder where Mr. Ralston had gotten off to. She wondered if he went to _died _also.

She snapped out of her reverie as she felt a cool hand grasp hers.

Looking down at her, Cora felt a heaviness on her heart. "Shall we go and sit down, Amelia?" she said, leading her back to the settees.

Just as they had sat down- this time, Cora sat beside Amelia, which seemed to put the child a bit more at ease- Mary, Edith and Sybil joined them. Cora watched Amelia's face as they appeared and she was almost sure the child thought she was seeing princesses, like in her fairy tales.

"Amelia, these are our daughters. Mary, Edith and Sybil." Robert said. The girls came in and took seats near where Cora and Amelia were seated, seeming to regard her cautiously. Amelia mustered up her clearest voice and said all in a single breath,

"Hello LadyMaryLadyEdithLadySybil!"

Sybil and Edith both laughed, their mouths turning up in little smiles. Mary's expression didn't change very much at all.

"Now, girls, as we've told Mr. Ralston already if we are to take Amelia in we will do so as a charge, not as a domestic. She is far too young."

"Oh, papa, don't be sentimental about it. She's quite a robust and quick-witted little thing." Mary said, regarding Amelia again. She leaned in toward the girl and said, "Wouldn't you love to learn to sew, Amelia? Perhaps you could even learn to cook."

"Wouldn't you like to have books and go to school?" Edith said, then, she turned to Robert "Papa, she ought to have tutors. If not the ones that we had, surely there is someone else in Yorkshire."

"Girls, I don't think she needs to be thinking of either thing now. She's only just lost her parents and I think what she would like is to read Alice in Wonderland. Now, do any of you know if it's still in the nursery?" Cora said with a peculiar determination. None of the girl's reacted for a moment - either they had no answer or just thought it an inane question. Then, Sybil responded.

"Mama, I think I know where it is. I can fetch it this evening. Is Amelia staying. . .tonight?"

Cora looked to Robert, neither of whom had thought much farther ahead than this meeting. While Robert things were going well-enough, he still wanted to converse more with Mr. Ralston. And certainly the child must be agreeable.

"Well, I'm not sure, I should think not but I will inquire with Mr. Ralston. We just wanted you girls to meet her. I suppose that's all for now and after Mr. Ralston and I speak, I will know."

With that, he dismissed them. Mary, who seemed almost to have been interrupted, headed back to whatever she had been doing. Edith kissed her father, then her mother, smiling at Amelia as she stepped out. And Sybil, who was the last to get up, lingered a moment before she spoke again.

"Amelia, would you like me to show you the rest of Downton Abbey?" she said, "I think Mr. Ralston will be coming back in to talk to Mama and Papa - perhaps we would both have more fun seeing what kind of mischief we can get up to somewhere else?"

Cora and Robert both looked at Amelia, who was eyeing Sybil with anticipation. Thinking, perhaps, she had found a friend in the girl, she looked to Robert for permission.

"Quite alright, Amelia." he turned to Sybil, "I will have Carson fetch you when Mr. Ralston and I are through speaking." he stood and went to Sybil, kissing her cheek, "Thank you, Sybil, you are very kind hearted."

Sybil went to Amelia and took her hand, leaning down to kiss Cora as they left.

"Now," she said to Amelia as they left the library, "Shall we find Alice?"


	4. Chapter 4

_* Hi guys! This chapter didn't go where I thought it was going to go but I'm just going to go along for the ride! I guess I was missing Sybil more than I thought, so she seems to have quite a presence in this story. Don't worry, though, there's more Cobert to be had. . .the next chapter may have a slightly more scandalous rating, be warned! ;) Thanks for all your lovely comments and feedback! _

Mr. Ralston waved as his car pulled away from Downton. Robert half-smiled, watching as the car disappeared. He turned and headed back into the house - but stopped, thinking he needed another moment before he returned inside.

Opting instead to take a stroll around the estate, Isis at his heel, he reflected upon his conversation with Mr. Ralston - and the decision that had been made about Amelia. Upstairs, Nanny was settling her into the nursery. Though nothing had been made official, by the time his conversation with Mr. Ralston had ended, the little girl had fallen asleep - beyond her nap, he supposed. Instead of making her journey back with Mr. Ralston, they instead decided to give a trial to her staying at Downton. At least until something more permanent came along.

Mr. Ralston had indicated that there was always a chance she could be adopted, perhaps into a working-class family in London- maybe there was someone else who had known her family who had yet to come forward. Robert had been at ease with this possibility, though he was worried that Cora might find it difficult to let the girl go if she became attached. It had been a long time since the girls were little, and it would be a few years yet before they had any grandchildren, so it was certainly appealing to Cora to play somewhere in between a mother and grandmother to the little girl. Robert himself was more concerned about honoring the girl's father, with whom he had perhaps shared more affection than he had previously let on - it would have been impossible for him to ever explain properly to anyone, except perhaps Bates, what it was like to bond to another man during wartime. These men became your brothers, regardless of who they were in civilian life. It was a bond he couldn't have explained, but felt deepen when he laid eyes upon the child who was his only connection to this man who had impacted him in such a way.

"Robert?"

He turned back toward Downton to see Cora walking across the lawn.

"How's Amelia settling in?" he said, moving toward her.

"Well enough, I suppose. I'm going to return to the nursery but I saw you heading off for a walk and thought perhaps you might have something on your mind? Other than the obvious."

He reached down and took her hand. Sauntering off to the south end of the estate, he sighed, squinting up into the sunlight.

"I suppose I'm worried about your feelings if we were to eventually relinquish Amelia to an adoptive family. Someone in London, you know, as Mr. Ralston mentioned."

"If that happens." Cora said, "I wouldn't say I'm holding the expectation."

"Do you think she's old enough to realize how we are different?" Robert ventured, realizing he lacked tact but hoping Cora wouldn't judge him too harshly for it. "In regards to her station."

"She seemed in awe of the estate, of the girls- I'm sure she fancies herself in a fairy tale, Robert. She may not have an understanding of why, but I'm certain she can sense that Downton is nothing at all like the life she knows." she paused a moment, looping her arm through his. "Are you afraid she won't learn?"

"No," Robert said slowly, as though he were unconvinced, "I think I'm more afraid that we won't."

Cora pondered this a moment. It was true that, if Amelia were to stay with them any great length of time, they would need to address the legality of her presence. There would surely be animosity bred amongst the girls, and certainly Violet would have none of it. Amelia may very well find herself more of an outcast at Downton than she would in a foundling home.

"I think all we can do at the moment is provide her with somewhere safe to be."

Robert nodded, "Sybil seems to have taken her under to wing."

"I think she's somewhat intrigued to not be the baby of the house anymore."

"Do you think Edith and Mary will come around? I have to say I was a little hurt by their skepticism, though, I suppose at least in Mary's situation there is a natural predilection for defending Downton from anything even marginally disruptive."

"Though I suppose she would have been even more up in arms had the child been a boy." Cora said, resting her head on Robert's shoulder. "Not that it would have changed much, though, it would have given her more grounds for nerves."

Robert chuckled, "Since when has Mary needed grounds for anything?"

The two settled into a bench at the edge of the estate and Robert watched as Isis trotted across the yard, investigating a few squirrels she'd caught sight of.

"I've rather missed having a child around, haven't you?" Cora said, placing a hand on Robert's thigh.

"Well, I don't know that I've thought about it, Cora. It's been such a long time since the girls were small, and life at Downton has changed so much in those years. I can't say that I've really missed it." he looked over at her and she looked slightly hurt. "But, it doesn't mean I don't remember those times fondly."

"I do." she said, her eyes glistening. "Even though raising three daughters proved challenging."

"Challenging would be putting it _lightly._" Robert said, patting her hand. He looked at her for a moment and then reached up to brush a stray hair from her face. "I think Amelia would be lucky to have you, for however long."

"We should go back now. I imagine she's awake from her nap now."

"Not just yet." Robert whispered, leaning into gently kiss her. He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. She sighed contentedly and reached up to stroke his face. He reached up to lace his fingers through hers, pressing her warm palm to his cheek. He kissed her again, this time gently tugging at her bottom lip. She laughed, her eyes still closed. Isis began to bark off in the distance and Robert broke the kiss, looking in her general direction. Nanny was coming across the lawn, Amelia in her arms.

"Lord Grantham," she called, out of breath, "I'm sorry to interrupt you and your Ladyship, but Amelia woke from her nap not too long ago and she's asking for you. Carson said he thought you were on your way back from strolling around the estate, but she's perfectly inconsolable and I wasn't sure quite what to do." By this time, she had reached the bench. Amelia was pressed up against her hip, her sallow, tear-streaked face looked up at Robert and Cora from beneath her long eyelashes. Nanny continued, setting her down in front of the bench, "I know it's not quite the same as it would have been with Lady Sybil."

Cora held her arms out to Amelia and was relieved when the little girl unselfconsciously climbed up into her lap. "How do you mean, Nanny?"

Nanny swallowed, wiping her hands on the front of her frock. "Well, m'lady, Amelia isn't your Ladyships child. I was unsure if you would want to comfort her."

Cora looked down at Amelia, her crying having subsided to just tiny, hiccupy sobs. "Amelia is to be regarded just the same as any other child in Downton for the time she's here with us. However long that is."

Robert raised his eyebrows, "Well, not exactly the same." he chuckled softly, "We won't be referring her to Lady Amelia."

"Why not?" Cora said as Amelia snuggled closer to her.

"Well, frankly Cora, it's inappropriate to even consider it. It's not how things are done."

Cora didn't say anything. Instead, she stood, balancing Amelia on her hip, the little girl's arms laced around her neck. She nodded to Nanny and headed back across the lawn toward Downton. Robert and Nanny both turned to watch her. Seeing her become smaller and smaller the farther away she got from where he sat, Robert felt a chasm open up between the two of them and he began to wonder if he would come to regret ever agreeing to meet the child in the first place.

* * *

Upstairs, from the nursery window, Sybil watched as her mother walked across the front lawn toward Downton, tightly embracing Amelia. During their little jaunt around Downton Abbey, Sybil had immediately liked the child. She was the embodiment of a new generation, a new consciousness in Europe. Sybil, having been the baby her whole life at Downton, was now excited at the prospect of imparting her own special brand of wisdom upon a young child. Having settled her into the nursery after locating their worn copy of _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, _Sybil sat with Amelia in her lap, reading from the beginning. She felt a little twitch in her chest, her heart expanding a bit with love for this child she didn't know, but hoped to.

And when Amelia fell asleep shortly after, Sybil sat with her a quiet moment before Nanny came in, thinking how sad it would be to be alone in the world.

Watching her Mama now, Sybil felt understanding blossom in her chest. That twinge of love was so much what she supposed her Mama felt about her, about Edith and even Mary. It was a love that also had with it a gnawing uncertainty - an impending loss. For her Mama, she knew that Sybil and her sisters were nearly grown. Soon they would marry and have babies of their own. And Amelia, well, no one could say how long she would be here.

Looking up at the nursery window, Cora saw Sybil and a wide, grateful smile came across her face. She paused just a moment, then, disappeared through the doorway.

Sybil turned from the window and raced downstairs to meet her Mama and Amelia. She knew one thing for certain: now that the love had taken root in her, it wasn't going to wilt - not ever.


	5. Chapter 5

Cora heard the door click shut and felt Robert's presence in the room. She didn't look up from her book, however, because she felt to acknowledge him now would be to suggest she was not still upset about their earlier conversation. Amelia had settled into the nursery, having been easily consoled once she saw Sybil in the doorway. Sybil had even taken a tray up to her for dinner - joining her, both sitting at the child's play table as though they were really sisters. Edith and Mary had refrained from any commentary on the subject at dinner, and she didn't see the point in pressing it. Robert had also been quiet but she had expected it of him. She hadn't wanted to make the decision about Amelia any more difficult than it needed to be, but when he had implied she was not going to be treated with the same love and regard as the other girls, it had hit a tender spot in her.

Though she hadn't read more than a paragraph since she had picked up the book a half hour ago, her mind lost in thought, she stared intensely at the pages now, feigning engrossment. Robert slid into bed next to her somewhat apologetically, his body hovering a moment over the covers as though he half expected her to tell him to leave. She didn't, and she waited while he fluffed his pillow nervously a few times, then looked at her woefully.

"Cora, darling." he ventured. She looked up at him from behind her book

"I'm still angry about earlier, Robert. I think I'd just like to read tonight if you don't mind."

Robert's face flushed and he leaned toward her, "Darling, I'm sorry about what I said. I know it was a rather heartless thing to say. I think I've been so focused on Amelia's father that I've failed completely to regard her as a person, and for that I am truly sorry."

She paused a moment, then, putting her book down on the bedside table, she sighed. "Oh, Robert."

"I realize I haven't even taken the time to talk to Amelia. I don't really know anything about her." he let his head fall back against the headboard of their bed and thought a moment, "It would seem she's taken rather well to Sybil, though."

Cora smiled, "Oh, she just adores Sybil. And likewise, I think Sybil is enjoying being the older sister for a change." Feeling a bit more empathetic toward Robert, and having easily forgiven him now, she settled in next to him, laying her head upon his chest and curling her hands up in fists beneath her chin. A nice moment of calm silence passed, then, she felt his fingers begin to softly stroke her hair.

"What is little Amelia like? I don't think I've heard her say more than a few words since she arrived."

"She's sweet but terribly anxious - and rightfully so. She misses her parents of course, but I feel she may miss her mother more than she could ever express." she turned her face up to Robert, "I don't wonder if, perhaps, Sybil might remind her of her mother. She was young, yes?"

Robert nodded, "Yes, they both were. Not as young as Sybil, but, younger than us."

"I didn't expect to ever have another child in the house but perhaps it would be easier having the girls to help set an example. I do worry about how Edith and Mary and taking it. They were awfully quiet at dinner this evening."

Robert chuckled low against Cora's ear, "They _were _quiet. Quiet from those two breeds danger."

"I think Edith is willing to consider the possibility, but, I'm certain she feels a little bit thwarted. Mary, though, I can't imagine that by now, with two younger siblings, she's not at least a little accustomed to having the attentions taken from her from time to time."

"I'm not sure that's what's bothering her." he sighed, jostling Cora slightly from his chest, "Though I'm sure we'll find out what is soon enough."

Cora sat up, her hair having come loose a bit from where he had fingered it. He reached over and tucked a stray strand behind her ear. Taking her in, he smiled contentedly, "You seem very happy, Cora, more jovial than I've seen you in weeks."

Smiling, Cora leaned closer, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. She pulled away to speak, but he raised his hands to gently take her face and pulled her back in. He deepened the kiss and she rose up on her knees, draping her arms around his neck. He let his hands fall from her face to the sides of her torso, resting upon her hips. Her mouth parted slightly, a small sigh escaped her and he smiled against her lips, equally pleased. He threw back the covers so that he could bring her closer, feel her body against his - when suddenly, they heard the door to their bedroom squeak open.

Robert looked up, startled. Amelia stood in the shadows of the hall, creeping around the doorframe.

Cora immediately softened, throwing the covers back and getting up. She crossed the room and knelt down before the doorway, extending her hand to Amelia, guiding her into the room.

"Amelia, my dear, is everything alright?" she whispered. Amelia came slowly into the room, a room of Downton she had not yet seen. As she came into the gentle yellow light, Cora could see that she'd been crying. She walked her across the room and helped her up on to the bed. Robert eyed her with concern. Settling back under the covers, Cora beckoned Amelia into her arms.

"Now, now, don't cry." she hushed. She looked at Robert apologetically.

"You know, Amelia" Robert began, inching closer to them, "When Mary and Edith were small, they had nightmares too. You wouldn't guess it by looking at them now but they spent many a night in here with us because they couldn't seem to fall asleep in the nursery."

For the first time, Amelia smiled. "Lady Sybil, too?" she asked quietly, looking up at him from behind Cora's arms.

"Oh yes, Sybil too." he laughed, exchanging a knowingly glance with Cora, "But if I recall I think she spent more nights climbing into bed with Mary than us."

"Oh yes, and Mary didn't much care for that did she?" Cora said, soothing Amelia's hair.

"Not in the least!" Robert said, making a dramatic face. At his apparent good humored fun poking at stoic Mary, Cora felt Amelia wiggle in her arms.

She was laughing.

Edith hovered just outside her parent's door. She had hoped to catch them at a private moment so she could share with them what she really thought about Amelia being at Downton. While Sybil was displaying her willingness upon her sleeve and Mary's reservations building up a wall, Edith found herself somewhere in between. It was her way to be always vacillating back and forth in alliance with her two sisters, such was the life of a middle girl, but when it came to the appearance of a sad, strange little girl at Downton, she knew where her heart was. Seeing her parents comforting Amelia, she felt a bit of envy. She had always felt as though her needs and wants were overlooked. She was nowhere near as demanding of attention as Mary, nor was she as naturally sweet and becoming as Sybil. But she was smart and intuitive in her way, and she hoped that her parents would have time for her now, to listen to what she had to say. Instead, she turned on her heels and headed down the hall to Mary's room. Rapping lightly upon her door and hearing no response, she entered.

"Mary, wake up!" she hissed, going over to the foot of the bed where Mary slept peacefully. "Mary Crawley, wake UP!" Louder now, and with aggressive shaking, she roused Mary from her slumber.

"Good God, Edith!" Mary said, blinking awake. "It's the middle of the night."

"I know, but Amelia's found her way into Mama and Papa's bedroom. I suppose she's had a nightmare."

Mary sat up, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness and Edith's frame hovering in it. "I feel as though I've been living in one all day, only now, before you woke me, did I feel at any peace."

Immune to Mary's dramatics, Edith sat next to her on the bed. "Mama loves her already and Papa will too, though he may think himself a harder sell than that. And of course Sybil's practically adopted the child herself and she hasn't even known her a fortnight!"

Mary rolled her eyes, "Yes, well, they'll come to their senses soon enough. The whole thing is irresponsible and impulsive," she grumbled, "If I may say _very American _a thing to do."

"Do you think they'll keep her on? At Downton? But as a child?"

"I would hardly have believed it so but you're beginning to make me question it."

"Come with me, look in on them. Then you'll have plenty to be concerned about."

As though they were two little girls again themselves, Edith and Mary tiptoed down the hall to the crack of light coming through their parent's bedroom door. Peeking in, they saw Amelia cuddled up into Cora's arms, and Robert seemed to be in the middle of some fantastic story.

". . .then, Cora came upstairs and told me that somehow Edith had managed to hide amongst the linens in a rather lengthy game of hide-and-seek with Mary, and fallen asleep. So the entire afternoon we spent running around the estate thinking she was missing while she was actually here all along!"

"Oh, how terribly apt a story about _you _that is." Mary sniggered, her voice low, "Poor Edith."

"Oh, shut up Mary."

"Of course Mary was always the mastermind behind all of the girl's adventures. Before Sybil was born, Mary crafted quite an eloquent plan to get her back to whence she came."

"Rather troubling to have to explain the origin, that was." Robert said, reaching a hand to Cora's face affectionately. "She eventually came around."

"Yes, and I imagine she will again in time." Cora said, kissing the top of Amelia's head.

"I didn't have a choice about Sybil." Mary said. Edith nodded in agreement. "But I certainly have a choice about this."

"Do you Mary?"

Edith and Mary turned around sharply. Sybil was standing in the hallway with her arms crossed. In the darkness, standing above them, she suddenly seemed to be the eldest sister.

"Shh!" Edith hushed, getting up, "They'll hear you!" Pushing her into the nursery, the girls followed and shut the door behind them. "It's none of your business."

"It's entirely my business!" Sybil cried, "You haven't even taken the time to get to know Amelia."

"We don't have to. Clearly she comes with an agenda." Mary said.

"An _agenda_? Mary, she's six years old for heaven's sake!"

"Yes, but her father was a grown man. And a devious one at that. How do you know he didn't come up with a plan to get his only child into one of the wealthiest families in England?"

"Mary, that's a horrid thing to say. Amelia's parents are dead!" her voice raised, Edith looked at the door nervously. Surely Papa had heard them bickering by now.

"Or so we think!" Mary came back, stepping in toward Sybil, "Your great fault, Sybil, is that you are entirely too trusting. No good ever comes of _that." _

"Well you are completely cold hearted and certainly, never, in the history of humankind has _that _been an admirable quality to have! You insist on presiding over Downton as though _you _are the Countess, not Mama. If she and Papa are inclined to let Amelia stay-"

"Girls!"

They all turned. Robert stood in the doorway of the nursery in his night clothes and robe. He was visibly angry, his face beet red and he had yet to further raise his voice. Behind him, Cora emerged from the darkness of the hallway, Amelia still in her arms.

"Papa, sorry we woke you." Edith said, somewhat pathetically. She could almost feel Mary groan at her pathetic attempt to cover up their row.

"Edith, Sybil go back to bed at once. Mary-" he turned to her, his eyes hard, "A word?"

Edith and Sybil ran out, their tails between their legs. After a few moments and the soft click of two bedroom doors, Robert moved into the room, Cora just behind.

"Is that really what you think of Amelia's father? That he was some sort of a con artist?" Robert's voice had grown quieter, more weary. Cora sighed heavily, looking down at Amelia who had thankfully and somewhat miraculously, fallen asleep.

"How can you not suspect it, Papa? Who would ever leave their only child with complete strangers?"

"We were hardly strangers, Mary. If you recall, John's death started Amelia on a search for a new home that no one asked for her to be on. Having lost both of her parents, she should rightfully have ended up in a foundling home. The lawyer charged with her case, Mr. Ralston whom you met, went through a small box of trinkets that came along with her and found the letters that John and I had exchanged." he sighed, "Mary, in this very large world the only connection this child had to anyone other than her family, which she lost, was found in those letters." he looked over his shoulder up at Cora, "and that connection is us." He turned back to Mary, "That connection is _Downton." _

Mary lowered her gaze, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Papa, I'm certain you think my rather heartless."

Robert placed his head softly upon her cheek, "No, Mary, not heartless. You're just incredibly strong and most often I find that a wonderful quality. Your devotion to Downton, to its history, makes me proud."

"Thank you, Papa." Mary said, her eyes watering.

"Now, run off to bed." Robert said, kissing her cheek. She kissed Cora goodnight on her way out the door. When they were alone, Mary having shut the door to the nursery behind her, they both exhaled, looking around the room. A room of Downton that they had not had reason to be in for many years.

"Do you remember when Sybil was a baby and I would wake at night and come in here, standing above her crib, watching her sleep?" Cora whispered, carefully placing Amelia down onto the small bed in the corner. "I was always so afraid, those first few weeks with each of the girls, that if I wasn't keeping a careful eye on them that they might disappear into the night."

"Or in the laundry chute." Robert laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist. Cora shook her head, smiling, and looked down at Amelia.

"She must be so frightened. I hope she knows that she's safe here. That Downton will protect her."

"I think she knows." Robert said, kissing Cora's cheek, "And if she doesn't yet, she will soon enough."


	6. Chapter 6

Amelia woke with a start.

It was morning and she was in a strange house - not that she would call it a house, it was more like a fairy tale castle. She had been dreaming of her mother. She rolled over in bed and her eyes adjusted to the early morning light. Remembering her mother - and father - were gone, the peace of sleep was quickly replaced by a heavy sadness in her chest. She cuddled down into bed and resolved to stay there as long as she could - why should she do anything else?

She was, in fact, exhausted from the few days prior. Traveling here, to Downton, meeting the many people who lived in the enormous house, and now, sleeping in a bed that wasn't hers and waking up alone. How strange it was to not hear her mother's gentle voice coaxing her out of sleep, the scent of her sweet perfume tickling her nose.

She closed her eyes again and tried to go back - back to the dream she had been in just before she woke, where her mother and father were still alive and she could almost feel their embrace. She heard a rap at the door and it startled her. Assuming it was probably the woman called only "Nanny", she pulled the covers up over her head.

"Amelia?"

It was not Nanny - a far more gentle voice than that. Slowly peeking out from the covers, Amelia saw the Countess standing in the doorway. The tall, slender, dark-haired lady was very nice. She also had many names - sometimes she was called Lady Grantham, or the Countess of Grantham, or Cora or "M'Lady" and the grown up daughters called her Mama. Amelia wasn't exactly sure what to call her and she could hardly keep track of all the possibilities.

Cora came and sat down on the edge of the bed. She let her hands fall gently into her lap and a small half-smile creeped across her face.

"I see you under those covers, darling. Are you hungry?"

Amelia hesitated to answer - she wasn't sure if she was hungry. The emptiness she felt was more longing for her family than it was for toast.

Understanding of her silence, Cora reached her hand out and soothed Amelia's hair.

"I hope you managed to get a little sleep last night." she said, her long elegant fingers mussing Amelia's hair, "I know it isn't the same thing as what you're going through, but the first few nights that I was at Downton, I didn't sleep a wink. I missed my family so."

Amelia lowered the covers enough to speak, "Where is your family?"

"I came here from America when I was younger."

"You're not English?" Amelia's brow furrowed. Come to think of it, she did have an odd accent for a Countess.

Cora laughed, "No, I'm not. And most people don't need to ask once they've had a proper look at me, I'm afraid. Of course, I do still see my family - sometimes they come to Downton to visit. But the first few nights I slept here I just felt so terribly alone."

"Didn't - didn't you have Lord Grantham?" Amelia stuttered.

"Well, not exactly. Not at first anyway."

"Then how come you were married?"

Feeling that this was far too complex a complication to have with a little girl of only six, Cora smile gently at the girl and sighed, "Well, it's all far more complicated than you should be concerned with, my darling. You have enough sadness in your life at the moment."

"I'm afraid." Amelia said, her voice a bit stronger. She felt as though she could confide in the Countess. Perhaps people would say it wasn't right for her to do so, but she was just so terribly lonely that she didn't care if it was proper or not.

"I know, my dear." Cora said, not really sure what else she could say. How could she possibly make these fears subside when, really, Amelia had every reason in the world to be afraid?

"I'm not hungry. At least I don't think I am." Amelia said, pulling the covers up under her chin. "Can you stay with me for a while longer?"

"Perhaps you'd like to come downstairs and join me in the library. I bet a cup of tea and honey would make you feel at least a little brighter this morning. And it's so beautiful - not stuffy like the nursery."

Amelia smiled at this - oh, she did love books and that library had been so big and filled with more books than she supposed she could ever read in her whole life!

Cora helped her out of bed and into one of her dresses - she'd only brought three because that was all she had. Cora looked concerned, but she didn't say anything.

Downstairs in the library, Mary, Edith and Sybil were already sitting primly - Mary was at the desk composing a letter, Edith was struggling with what appeared to be needlepoint, and Sybil was reading. When Cora and Amelia stepped into the room, Sybil smiled.

"Good morning, Amelia!" she said brightly, "I thought perhaps you would sleep forever, like Sleeping Beauty!"

Amelia smiled, a little unsure of herself. Cora reached down wordlessly and took her hand, guiding her over to the settee to join Sybil. "Amelia, shall we ring for Carson and you could have some tea?"

Nodding- but not sure if she would _like _the tea at Downton, Amelia sat down next to Cora. She looked at how the other girls were sitting - so quietly, and sitting up so straight! Suddenly she felt very self-conscious about her own appearance. She knew she was not graceful, nor was she particularly pretty. In a room full of very proper and beautiful women she felt so out of place -and again, the longing for her family welled up inside her. Fighting back tears, she cast her eyes downward and studied the design of the carpet.

"Mary, are you still planning to go to Ripon this afternoon?" Cora asked.

Without looking up from the letter she was composing, Mary responded flatly, "Yes, Mama. Why?"

"I was hoping Amelia and I could accompany you. It appears that she is in need of a few more dresses, and most probably a winter coat as well."

Amelia's face flushed. How would she pay for those things? She was certain she had no money , and if she did, she didn't know where it was being kept.

"I don't need any dresses." she said, her eyes still focused on the carpet. "I've got three."

Many sniggered, "Oh, well, see Mama? The little darling is quite content to have a more minimalist approach to her wardrobe - though, perhaps she will soon grow tired of wearing the same dress to tea each day."

Cora chose to ignore Mary's snappy remark and instead lifted Amelia's face, "A young lady needs to have pretty things to wear, Amelia. And besides, you'll find that I very much enjoy a shopping trip."

"I haven't any money!" Amelia cried - a bit more desperately than she intended. The anxiety of the morning had started to pour out of her - and between the humiliating thought of not being able to afford new dresses, and the mounting loneliness that wore her heart, she felt her face go hot with tears.

"Oh, Amelia, darling, you have misunderstood. Lord Grantham and I will pay for your clothes - and anything else you need - because you are in our care now. You haven't go to worry about paying for the dresses!"

Amelia sniffled. She still didn't understand, exactly, but she felt a bit better.

"Amelia," Sybil whispered, "I think you'll find that Mama's taste in dresses is particularly good. You'll look like a real princess when she's done with you."

Looking up at the wide-eyed Sybil, Amelia couldn't help but smile. She hoped that when she grew up she was as pretty as Lady Sybil. Perhaps, if she stayed at Downton with all their jewels and pretty gowns, she would be.

"Well, I wasn't planning to make an entire day of it, Mama. But I suppose you could accompany me." Mary said, rising from the desk. "If you'll excuse me I'm going to go upstairs and change. I'll be leaving around eleven."

She bruskly exited the library, leaving Cora feeling a bit wounded. She turned her attention to Edith, who had yet to say a word since they came downstairs.

"Will you be joining us, Edith?"

Looking up from her needlework, realizing that she was being spoken to at last, Edith forced a smile "No, Mama, I'm afraid I've already got another engagement."

Cora raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

"Yes, nothing as spectacular as a trip to Ripon, but something I'd care to do nonetheless." Giving no more explanation, she set her needlework down and rose, "So, if you'll pardon me as well."

As she left, Cora turned expectantly to Sybil, "How mysterious! Have you any idea what she's up to?"

Sybil shrugged, closing her book. "I'm not entirely but-" she winked at Amelia, "I think Edith may have a suitor." She set the book on the small table next to the settee and folded her hands in lap, "I'd love to accompany you to Ripon, Mama."

"Wonderful. Why don't you run along and get dressed - and Amelia and I will have some tea and then we'll plan to depart at eleven sharp."

Sybil skipped off to get changed and - again, finding herself alone with "sullen but earnestly trying to hide it" Amelia, Cora studied the girl a moment. She had gone quiet and her face appeared to have aged a bit since she woke this morning.

"I know you are very confused, my dear. Frightened and perhaps even worried that this is all just a bad dream. But try not to worry about what is to come. For now, you have a safe place and Downton will protect you. The world is a very big, scary place for such a little girl. The only thing you need to worry about today is what color dresses you'd most like to have."

While it didn't take away the gnawing ache in her heart, Amelia did have to admit that she was a bit excited about having new dresses. She'd never had anything new - her mother had made all of their clothes. Realizing this - that her dresses were all she had left of her - she looked at Cora intensely.

"You won't take my old dresses away will you? Mother made them for me. She sewed them herself just for me and I don't want to throw them away."

"Oh, never darling. We can simply fold them up nicely and place them in your wardrobe. Whenever you miss her you can take them out and hug them close - how does that sound?"

Amelia exhaled - relieved, and nodded in agreement.

"Now, let's see if Carson can fetch you some tea."

* * *

* _Sorry it took me a while to update this one! :) Thank you all for continuing to read it - and falling in love with Amelia, too! _


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

_Autumn, 1912_

"Mrs. Crawley has arrived." Carson announced, "I do believe that Mr. Crawley is with her as well."

Robert looked up from his newspaper, "Matthew's with her?"

"Yes, M'lord."

Robert folded his newspaper up - his cousin Isobel Crawley, along with her son Matthew, had become part of Downton lore of late after the Titanic sinking had claimed the life of Downton heir and heir apparent, James and Patrick Crawley. Matthew was now heir to the Earldom.

Isobel and Matthew, in fact, had only recently began to spend time at Downton - once Robert had written to Matthew to inform him that he had become the heir presumptive. Matthew and Mary were quite close in age, and from the beginning it seemed that, perhaps, they would wed to keep the influence of Robert's earldom in Downton's future. Matthew was a smart young man - a lawyer - and appeared, to Robert anyway, to be a young man capable of grooming.

Isobel and Matthew were already in the drawing room when Robert arrived - they stood quickly in his presence.

"Cousin Isobel, Cousin Matthew - good to see you both." Robert said, joining them.

"Mary had written to Matthew about _the situation._" Isobel began, "And implored Matthew to come. I came along too, and I hope my presence is not an imposition. We are still settling into Crawley House - and we thank you for all the helps your domestic staff has provided."

"Not at all, we're pleased to have you both. Now, Matthew, what situation did Mary write to you about, exactly?"

Matthew and Isobel exchanged glances. It had been several weeks since Amelia had arrived at Downton, and from what Mary had said in her letter, it seemed that the dust was not soon to settle.

"Amelia." Matthew smiled, "Your young charge?"

"Oh yes." Robert said, matter of factly, "Amelia. You haven't met her yet."

"We were hoping perhaps we would meet her on this visit." Isobel said, "Mary said in her letter that her father was a friend of yours?"

Robert sighed, "Well, he and I had fought in the war together - but other than our written correspondence I hadn't seen him in many years. I'm afraid he and his wife both perished and Amelia was to be sent to a foundling home."

"Oh, that's terribly dreadful." Isobel said, "Those places are crawling with infection."

"Mary didn't seem to think she would be here permanently - or, that perhaps when she is a few years older you would add her to to the domestic staff." Matthew said, "But the girl is only six or seven?"

Robert nodded and no sooner had he opened his mouth to speak as Cora joined them in the drawing room, following soon after by the three girls - and Amelia in tow, peaking out from behind Sybil's skirts.

"Cousin Isobel, Cousin Matthew- lovely to see you both." Cora smiled, sitting next to Robert.

"We were just speaking of Amelia," Robert smiled, searching Sybil's skirt for Amelia's face. The girl had settled in somewhat - but she was still quiet and timid. She clung to Cora and Sybil mostly - her only solace in her new world.

Stepping out from behind Sybil, Amelia offered a little smile to the new faces. She had met so many people since she arrived at Downton, it often made her head spin trying to keep track of everyone.

"These are our cousins, Isobel and Matthew. Matthew is the heir to Downton, Amelia." Robert said, patting his lap invitingly. Amelia looked up at Sybil, who nodded to her, and then climbed into Robert's arms. Sitting down on the settee, Mary and Edith both looked as though they were struggling to hold their tongues.

"Thank you for your letter, Lady Mary." Matthew said, catching the eldest sister's eye. Amelia watched the two exchange glances and she wondered if they were friends. She saw Mary's mouth turn up into a little smile - and she thought it was the very first time she'd seen Mary smile since she came to Downton several weeks prior.

"Doesn't Amelia have the most beautiful dress on today?" Sybil said, "Mama picked it out for her in Ripon when we went a few weeks ago - we bought her several, but I think this one is by far my favorite."

Amelia blushed- she did love her new dress. It was more marvelous than anything she'd ever worn before - it was a deep purple, with a beautiful white collar - and she even had new shoes to wear, with buckles that weren't even broken!

"She has the most precious hat to go with it." Cora said proudly, "With her beautiful red hair, it looks so becoming."

"I should go retrieve it!" Sybil said, "Really, she looks so precious in it."

"No, let me!" Edith piped up, "Mary, come with me, I don't remember exactly where it is."

Mary threw her a look - not wanting to leave Matthew, but she saw that her sister was not trying to be helpful, exactly: she was scheming. Not able to resist, Mary rose and joined her, turning back to Matthew just briefly, "If you'll excuse us, we'll return presently -" she looked coldly to Amelia, "With the _hat." _

As they left the drawing room, Edith hastily pulled Mary into a private corner.

"What did you tell Matthew in the letter?" she hissed

"I merely told him about Amelia's arrival." Mary said coolly, "I didn't tell him about your little trip to-"

"Shh." Edith hushed, "You mustn't so much as hint at anything until we're certain - I still have more investigating to do. I'm taking the train to Whitechapel this afternoon."

Mary raised an eyebrow, "You can't go there alone, Edith. What about all those murders? The Whitechapel Murderer*? Don't you recall that they have never found out who is responsible?"

"I have gone alone before, what difference does it make this time? It's not as though anyone would even know I was gone if I disappeared into the slums of East London!"

"Don't be so melodramatic!" she said, "Perhaps I shall invite Matthew to go with me - and then at least we'd be close by."

"But I don't want him to know about my snooping." Edith said, "I'm certain he'd tell Papa."

Mary smiled deviously, "No, Edith, I don't think so. Not if I told him not to."

Edith cocked her head, "Is there something between you to - a budding romance perhaps?"

"Frankly, that's none of your business." she looked behind her, seeing Carson eyeing them from the foot of the stairs, "Now, let's go find that ridiculous little hat."

* * *

Edith had first ventured to Whitechapel the day that Cora had gone with Mary and Sybil to Ripon to buy dresses for Amelia. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, exactly, or what she would find, but she was determined to find out anything she could about Amelia's family. On return from her first trip, she hadn't any leads, but she did confide in Mary about where she had been. They both agreed to continue to search in secret - and were increasingly convinced that there was something to be found.

Perhaps, too, she was pleased to have something to share with Mary. Though she was still greatly upset about Patrick's death, and couldn't help but feel a little resentful that Mary had so quickly - and obviously- fallen for Matthew, she found that (as had been true in childhood) keeping her antagonistic sister close was always better than being "on her bad side."

While Matthew and Mary traipsed around London, Edith found herself walking somewhat aimlessly around the east end - Whitechapel. Perhaps the most destitute district of London, Edith's investigations had narrowed down Amelia's former whereabouts to this area - though she had not yet been able to find anyone who remembered her or her parents. Walking through the streets she kicked up dust and heard the squalling of babies who rested on the hips of their soot-faced mothers. Children ran barefoot through the streets, snaking through linens hanging out to dry. Up ahead, she saw a storefront - perhaps a general store - and hoped perhaps the shopkeeper would have a grasp on the local families. Maybe even remembering the little red haired girl. In her pocket, she had the letter from John to her father, as well as Amelia's picture. She had stolen it from his dressing room without incident - and in fact was rather disappointed at how easy it had been.

"Excuse me, sir, I was hoping you might be able to help me." Edith said, approaching the shopkeeper. He was an older gentleman, with a great white moustache, and although he looked a bit wild he had kind eyes.

"Wuts a gel like you doin' in Wheetchapel?" he said, his accent think. Edith wasn't sure but thought perhaps he sounded Irish. Whitechapel was full of immigrants- it appeared to her to be a small world in and of itself - nothing at all like the homogeneity of Downton.

"I'm looking to find out about - about a family who used to live here. A man named John Brody. I don't know his wife's name but they had a daughter- I have her picture. Her name is Amelia." she handed the worn photograph to the man, and saw a smile creep across his face.

"Oh, lil' Amelia Broooody!" he said, "Do ye know wut happen' to the gel?" Her mum and pa both died, they had cho-le-rah*, ye know."

"So, you knew them then?" Edith said excitedly, "What can you tell me about them?"

The shopkeeper handed Amelia's picture back to her, "Well, nice folk. Darlin' child was as sweet as pie, ye know. Quiet lil' thing. Mum's name was Emmeline. Looked jus' like the gel, red 'air, the biggest green eye's ye ever saw." He sighed, "John had a time o' it after the war, he wasn't all there in the head, ye know what I mean?"

"I'm afraid I don't."

"Good man's failin'" he said, making a drinking gesture, "He nursed the bot'le."

"A drunk?" Edith said, "Was he employed?"

The shopkeeper shook his head, "No, but I think he and Emmeline ran a bit o' a con, with the gel. She was like a lil' doll, and they could show 'er off in city proper and get money."

Edith's face flushed, "But she's only a child. Was she a part of their con?"

The shopkeeper pinched the bridge of his nose, "Don't mind my sayin' so, ma'am, but you don't look like you'd know a con if it was right under ye nose - where ya from, anyway?"

Shaking her head, Edith put the photo and letter back in her purse, "Sir, I thank you, you have been quite helpful. Is there anyone around here - friends or acquaintances of the Brody's, who could possibly tell me more?"

The man thought a moment and shook his head, "They kept to themselves. Don't think they wanted anyone to catch on about wut they were doin' in the city with the gel."

Sighing, Edith turned on her heels and headed for the door, the shopkeeper called after her.

"Do you know where the gel is now, Amelia?" he asked. "Is that why ye have her photograph?"

Edith turned back to him, "She's safe now." she said, "That's all you need to know. And she'll _never _come back to Whitechapel."

* * *

_*Notes on this chapter_:

* Whitechapel was one of the poorest parts of London in the late Victorian era and was known for being a rather colorful place- many immigrants from around the world. It was also home to "The Whitechapel Murderer" - better known as Jack the Ripper.

* I had originally thought this story was set later - closer to 1920, but now I'm majorly back-peddling and it's set at the beginning of series - Amelia arrived, perhaps, mid-summer 1912. The Titanic sunk, Isobel and Matthew are around- soon, too, we will see Branson (!) arrive in spring 1913.

* I originally wanted Amelia's parents to have died from Spanish flu, but since the time has been moved back, it's more likely (especially living in Whitechapel) that they died of cholera, for which there had been a major outbreak in the 1880s, but it was still relatively prevalent in poor communities where sanitation and clean water presented challenges. It wasn't far off for Isobel, a nurse, to recognize that if Amelia had gone to a foundling home -especially a poor one - that she too would have eventually succumbed to either that or some other infectious disease.

* Cholera was a terrible way to die - extreme diarrhea and vomiting made it an illness that very quickly turned fatal if someone could not be properly rehydrated - and if they were drinking the same water that infected them in the first place, they would have just been hastening their death. It would have most certainly been fatal if Amelia had contracted it - as children will dehydrate a lot faster than adults - but it is possible that she could have avoided it because she was young, but not infantile. Also, blood type influences susceptibility, so it's possible that Amelia would have had a blood type that granted her a small amount of resilience to the infection if she was drinking infected water along with her parents. She also - if you want to get really specific- could have carried a specific mutation of the gene for cystic fibrosis, which grants some immunity to individuals who are carriers of the gene for CF, but do not have the symptoms.


	8. Chapter 8

"Well, we mustn't tell Sybil." Mary said, having listened intently to Edith's recap of her trip to Whitechapel. Edith had wasted no time racing up to Mary's bedroom upon her return - only to be chastised by Mary who had returned from London with Matthew in a timely manner and had to make up some ridiculous story to cover Edith's absence - and although the story of Amelia was a sad one, at Mary seemed mostly preoccupied with the fact that her misgivings about Ameila's parents weren't entirely misguided.

"It's hardly Amelia's fault that she was caught up in her parent's dishonesty, Mary." Edith said, crossing her arms, "She's a child!"

"I'm not placing any blame on Amelia, God knows the child doesn't need the burden of that- all I'm saying is that my initial impression of her parent's motives were not so far off and it would seem to me that if the truth about her past was to become known, the honor of Downton would be at stake." She rose from her vanity and crossed to Edith, who was hovering near the door. "How would it look if it became known that Downton was harboring the daughter of a prostitute? And a conman? Edith, _we _are not a foundling home nor do we want to put the idea into anyone's head."

Edith stiffened - perhaps her sister was right, but need she be so bitter about it? She held her gaze for a moment, then lowered it, "So, who do we tell?"

"I don't know yet- although I think I may tell Matthew, perhaps he would have some legal council for us." she snickered, "After all, that is _his _trade."

"But surely he'll tell cousin Isobel - and God knows who she'll tell." Edith said.

"Matthew won't tell, Edith." Mary replied, her gaze unwavering. Edith thought perhaps she saw a glint of passion in Mary's eye, though she didn't dare question it.

Slinking out of Mary's room, Edith headed back to her own bedroom, exhausted from her trip and all that she learned on it. As she passed the nursery, she saw that there was a dim light coming from inside it. It was late, much too late for Nanny to be puttering about. As she passed by, she peaked through the crack of the door which stood ajar. By a dimly lit candle, she saw her father standing over Amelia's bed. The child, shrouded in darkness, appeared to be sleeping soundly.

"Your father was an honorable man, Amelia." Robert whispered, mostly to himself it seemed. "I know you are not old enough yet to understand the war,, but I hope someday you'll come to know his bravery. I hope that you'll remember him the way I do - as a man of good heart and strong character."

Edith closed her eyes and backed away from the nursery door. Though she knew little of her Papa's time in the war, not the gritty details anyway, she knew that he regarded the men he had fought alongside as brave and honorable. To upend his beliefs would be heartbreaking - not just for Amelia, but for him as well. Mary had been so concerned with outing Amelia's true past that she seemed to completely forget about the possibility that she too would stand to destroy Papa's lasting memory of a man who had, at least in the time he had known him, proved himself honorable. Weighted down with far too much ethical quandary for a midnight, Edith retreated to her bed, suddenly wishing she could unknow everything she had learned in Whitechapel and fall asleep in blissful ignorance.

* * *

"_Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored." _

― _Aldous Huxley_

Amelia had grown particularly close to Lady Sybil. Of all the girls at Downton, Sybil seemed to be the only one who really looked at her with kindness. Of course, the Countess did too, but she also often looked at her with sadness, which made Amelia feel as though her presence was sometimes very burdensome. Sybil never did, though. If anything, Sybil always seemed delighted to see Amelia and often sought her out for company.

It was nearing Christmastime at Downton and the estate was abuzz with activity. Sybil had told Amelia all about the lavish parties that would be happening this time of year and all of the people she was likely to meet.

"Don't worry if you can't remember everyone," Sybil had laughed, "I've been attending these parties for almost eighteen years and of course I can hardly remember everyone's names!"

They were sitting in the library having tea and making a stack of books to read together. They had already made it through most of the "children's" books in the nursery, so Sybil had decided to take it upon herself to tutor Amelia in the ways the world would soon be changing - and make sure that the girl didn't have the same conservative upbringing that she had.

"It's so exciting, Amelia, there are so many ways of looking at the same thing. Papa isn't likely to tell you that, and I'm sure your tutors and governesses won't either, but I have learned already that the world is an awfully big place - much bigger than a cloistered life at Downton would lead you to believe."

She looked at Amelia with empathy - she knew that the girl was already well aware of this. Amelia, too, immediately recognized that Sybil was far more open-minded than anyone else at Downton. Since she had arrived, Amelia had been harboring deep pain and terrible secrets. She had recently begun to think that, perhaps, she could confide in Sybil without jeopardizing her new home. Now, as they sat curled up in the library together, she felt truly safe for the first time- not just since she arrived at Downton, but perhaps, ever in her life.

"Sybil, I want to tell you a secret." Amelia said, letting her head rest on Sybil's bosom.

"Oh, secrets, hm?" Sybil grinned, "If it's that you fancy Matthew Crawley than don't worry- I already know!" she tickled the girl and Amelia laughed - it was true, she did think Mary's suitor was very handsome and nice. But no, that wasn't the secret she wanted to share.

"No, Sybil, not that." she said, grasping the fabric of Sybil's dress for strength. "I don't think my parents were good. They made me do things."

Sybil stiffened, "What do you mean, Amelia?"

"I stole things and had to be alone with men sometimes. And my mum did too."

Sybil was silent, but she did tighten her embrace around Amelia, "Did you tell the nice man who brought you to Downton these things? Did he know when he brought you here?"

Amelia shrugged, "I don't know, but I don't want to go to an orphanage, please don't tell!"

"Oh, Amelia, I won't - but are you certain no one else knows about this? You swear that no one else knows?"

"I only told you." Amelia said quietly, her eyes welling up with tears, "Please, Sybil, please don't tell."

Sybil looked Amelia in the eye and brushed her damp dresses from her face, "I won't tell a soul, Amelia. But I am so sorry that you have been hurt. I want you to know that I love you very much - as though you were really my sister." she hugged the girl tightly to her chest, "You'll have a better life now. I promise you."

As the two sniffled, stuck in a calm embrace, they didn't hear the door of the library gently shut - for O'Brien had opened it just a crack to tell them Lady Grantham wanted them to join her upstairs to have their gowns fitted for the holiday soiree. Of course, O'Brien had overheard everything - and as she briskly returned to the servant's quarters she tried to decide what she would do with the information she had just learned about Downton's little mystery.


	9. Chapter 9

_Christmastime, 1912_

A few weeks after the mystery of Amelia's past began to unravel, everyone's attention was suddenly focused on the demands of the holiday season. It was the season of gatherings at Downton, the social life a buzz for all both above and below the stairs. This would be Amelia's "coming-out" of sorts to many who had merely heard reference of her presence at Downton at the end of the summer, and Cora found herself somewhat taken with the task of making sure it was as splendid as possible. She supposed that really, the holidays had never been a special time of year for the girl - coming of age in such a state of poverty - but this year not only would she be downright spoiled with gifts and attention - but love, too.

Of course, Cora knew that not everyone at Downton was quite keen on the idea of formally introducing Amelia as a permanent member of the estate. Mary had been unusually quiet the last few weeks and seemed to be rather uncharacteristically in cahoots with Edith - this would normally bring delight to Cora to think that the two girls, who harbored such deep seated resentment of one another, were getting on - but of late she thought it could only mean one thing: they were conspiring.

Though, since Matthew had arrived at Downton there had been a discernible shift in Mary. She was quite taken with him and it seemed that, perhaps, a love could blossom between them afterall. Not just a love to save Downton, but a love that could save Mary, too. Amelia had liked Matthew and Isobel from the start. Cora perhapsed that since they were not aristocrats, at least not yet, it was likely that Amelia felt a bit closer in station to them than she would have anyone else at Downton, besides the servants - who had seemed to be even more wary of her than Mary.

The only person who seemed to have developed an unselfconscious adoration for the girl was Sybil, and this hardly surprised Cora. As her youngest had begun to come of age, she had brought about a new life to the dusty corners of Downton. Sybil was open to new ideas, new ways of life - and it seemed most likely that she would be the one to embrace someone like Amelia, whose life thus far had been the polar opposite of what Sybil's life had been. But Sybil regarded her with far more than just rapt admiration - she truly seemed to have affection for the girl, a love that Cora recognized as being the kind of protective love she felt for all three of her girls - and Amelia as well. She loved to watch the two of them together. It made her think that one day, if she could be convinced to marry, Sybil would make a wonderful mother.

She couldn't contain her smile as she thought of this - it was the end of the day and O'Brien was taking her hair down as she readied for bed. The lady's maid caught her expression in the mirror and chuckled,

"What's got m'lady smilin' so wide?" she asked, dropping a pin onto the vanity.

"Oh, O'Brien. Have you seen Sybil with Amelia? She's so sweet. I think one day she'll make a most wonderful mother - that is, if we can convince her to marry."

O'Brien's hands hesitated over the remaining clips in her ladyship's hair.

"Oh, yes, m'lady. Certainly so."

Cora regarded O'Brien a moment- though she considered the two to have a small intimacy- as a lady's maid and her ladyship often do- she realized just how little she really _knew _O'Brien.

"O'Brien, I imagine you must have been very clever as a little girl." Cora said, her reflection smiling kindly up at her lady's maid.

"Oh, I don't know if I was clever, m'lady, but with brothers I at least had to be quick on my feet."

"Do you think you would have ever wanted to have children of your own?"

Setting the last pin on Cora's vanity, O'Brien looked down at her hands, "No, m'lady. I'm fully devoted to my work here."

Cora reached up and patted O'Brien's hands affectionately. "Well, I'm certainly grateful that you're here."

O'Brien smiled at her ladyships gratitude, but felt a bit embarrassed at her display of emotion, "Thank you, m'lady. Is there anything else you need?"

Cora shook her head, "No. Goodnight, O'Brien."

Leaving her ladyship's bedroom, O'Brien hurried back downstairs. She went to the only person she could go to - the only person at Downton who was perhaps more emotional than Cora- _Anna. _

"Anna," she said, knocking on her door, "May I come in?"

Surprised - and perhaps that was an understatement, Anna opened the door and peaked out, "Of course, what's the matter?"

Shutting her door, O'Brien turned, "I don't want you to get misty eyed or think that we'll be bosom buddies now, but I need you to help me."

Anna, confused, sat on her bed. "I'll certainly try."

"I overheard something- something Amelia said to Lady Sybil in the library-and I won't say what of because no one can know that I heard- but I've got to go to Whitechapel. An ol' friend o' mine is a shopkeeper there. I'm going to talk to him."

"Whitechapel? Alone?" Anna said, "When are you leaving?"

O'Brien's eyes darkened, "I'll go tonight- her ladyship's retired for the evenin' and if you can tend to her in the mornin', tell her and Mrs. Hughes I've caught cold, I'll sneak back in as soon as I can - if you can keep it secret, no one will be the wiser."

"Whitechapel, in the middle of the night? I don't think you ought to go alone."

"Anna, don't be daft. I can handle myself. If anyone in this house could beat the stuffing out o' the Whitechapel Murderer- don't you think it'd be me?"

Anna giggled, "You're probably right." she rose, "If you don't return by the noon train, I'll send Thomas in for you - I'll assume something's gone wrong?"

O'Brien hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Alright, then." she turned to leave, but paused, "Thank you, Anna."

Without giving her time to respond- she disappeared behind Anna's closed bedroom door. She returned to her dresser to brush out her hair; and began to rummage around for her nicest cap to wear tomorrow morning when she'd have to tend to her ladyship in O'Brien's absence.

* * *

Upstairs, Robert had slid into bed next to Cora, who although she was holding a book, appeared to be moments away from drifting off to sleep. Chuckling, Robert reached over at took the book out of her hands.

"Darling, you're looking a bit dead-and-alive," he set the book on the nightstand and turned back to her, holding his arms open, "Shall we sleep perchance to dream?"

Cora smiled sleepily and cozied up next to him, folding her fists beneath her chest like a child as she rested against his.

"I've been tiring myself out with preparations for the holiday. I want it to be most lovely for Amelia." her eyes fluttered closed and she yawned against Robert's chest, "How terrible that she has most likely never had a proper Christmas."

"Cora, my dear, I think you have probably planned enough or one day- for a fortnight even- just let yourself drift off."

She was, of course, already asleep. Her small and steady breath's like a kitten's purr against him. He kissed her hair gently and leaned back against the headboard. He wasn't quite ready to sleep, and instead, was looking forward to a few moments of just laying with her.

Not a moment had passed before there was a light knock on the door- so light, in fact, that he nearly thought he imagined it.

"Come in?" he said, just loudly enough to be heard but trying not to wake Cora. The door pushed open slowly and revealed a most tiny, shaking girl. In his mind's eye he imagined the nights that the girls - well, mostly Sybil, never Mary and only occasionally Edith- would come in, having escaped the nursery, and hope for comfort from a bad dream. It was now, of course, Amelia who peeked her head around the doorframe, hoping to be granted entrance.

"Whatever is the matter, Amelia?" he said, trying to appear inviting, though, with Cora splayed out upon his chest he felt as though he may be putting Amelia ill at ease.

The little girl - who seemed to be growing and changing with every day that she was finding a home at Downton - padded quietly across the floor, looking up at him - not really with any expectation of affection, just, perhaps a bit of reassurance. Amelia had, of course, taken immediately to Sybil and Cora, who lavished her with the womanly comfort of a hug- but she had remained a bit wary of Robert- perhaps because, with his girl's so grown up- she hadn't witnessed him being an overly affectionate fellow - except to Isis, of course.

"I had a nightmare - it, it was about my parents. I woke up and thought I was still at home, with them, and I know I'm not, but I feel frightened still and- and-" she hesitated, not sure exactly what she was asking of him. He smiled, looking down at the foot of the bed - beckoning her to sit with his gaze, since his arms were still wrapped around an exhausted Cora.

Amelia climbed up onto the bed and curled up, not unlike how Isis would curl up at Robert's feet when she knew he wasn't feeling well. He smiled at Amelia - with her mop of red hair which almost always needed to be brushed out by Sybil or Cora, for it was perpetually knotty from years of being perpetually unwashed. Really, Amelia was quite a beautiful child - porcelain skin, pretty blue eyes with light eyelashes that made her gaze bright and cheerful. Her red hair setting her apart from his girls who mostly had Cora's dark coloring. He supposed that, when Amelia was older, if she was still at Downton, she would probably be like Mary and never short on suitors. Though, of course, since Amelia had no connection to the entail, she would certainly have a bit more freedom in choosing a beau.

"I imagine you must miss your parents a great deal." Robert whispered, "You know that I served in the Boer War alongside your father. He was an excellent man, you know, very earnest and brave." To his surprise, Amelia didn't seem impressed. In fact, if he wasn't mistaken, she nearly looked indifferent. "I regret I never met your mother," he said, "Her name was Emmeline?"

At the mention of her mother, Amelia perked up. "Yes, she was so beautiful and wonderful. I miss her terribly. I sometimes think that when Lady Sybil and her mother take me to London or Ripon - that maybe we will see my mother! That she will still be alive and it all will have been just a bad dream." she sighed, "I wish dying wasn't forever."

Robert sighed, "Yes, I rather know about grief. Though I think it must be much harder for little girls than it is for men."

Nodding in agreement, Amelia sat up. "Now that I live here at Downton, sometimes I have nightmares that _she _dies too." she reached out and brushed Cora's hair lightly, "She's very pretty, like my mother. I like her very much." she brightened, "Oh, and Lady Sybil! I sometimes almost cry thinking about how sad I would be if she died, I don't think I could stand to go on living."

"Well, I rather agree with you. If anything happened to any of my girls, I don't think I'd know quite how to go on myself." He regarded Amelia a moment, who had become lost in her own thoughts, tentatively touching Cora's hair.

"Why don't you get under the covers on the other side of Cora. I don't think she'll mind." he looked down at her affectionately - she hadn't budged since she had laid her head upon Robert's chest. Amelia, looking as though she had just been invited to dine at Buckingham Palace, crawled under the blankets - but stayed as far away from Robert and Cora as she could. Flattered by her decorum, especially since she was still an incredibly young child, Robert laughed.

"If you have another nightmare, Amelia, you can always hug close to Cora. I find her rather agreeable as a comfort when I have a bad dream."

Amelia smiled, pulling the covers up to her chin. She nodded and, feeling safe again, began to drift off- but not before murmuring a 'goodnight' to Robert.

"Yes, goodnight dear girl."

After a few moment's the room grew quiet again. He managed to free one arm out from under Cora and used it to reach over and turn the lamp down on the nightstand. Outside, the moon shining brightly over the estate created a soft light that came into the room through a crack in the curtains- just enough to cast a bit of glow over Cora's features. Careful not to disrupt her too much, Robert shuffled down into bed, smiling as he fell asleep listening to her sleepy squeaks and the snores of a child who, while not strictly theirs, had certainly found a home in his heart.


	10. Chapter 10

Pausing under a streetlamp, Sarah O'Brien lit a cigarette and squinted ahead into the darkness. She hadn't been to Whitechapel in several months, and certainly not at night, so her attempts to locate the shop of her old friend, Fergus MacCrory. No sooner had she heaved a disgruntled sigh, exhaling smoke into the night air, than she heard the familiar tinkling of shop bells and looked down the street. A man was emerging from a shop - not sure that it was Fergus, in the dark she could scarcely make him out - she figured she could at least ask if he knew where Fergus lived. Since the Whitechapel Murders, the streets had quieted at night and thus far in her journey she hadn't crossed paths with very many people at all, and the sounds of her heels echoing along the pavement sent a chill up her spine. At least she'd had the foresight to tell Anna where she was going.

"Sir, 'scuse me!" she called, pitching her cigarette onto the ground. The man paused and walked toward her, and as he illuminated under the streetlamp, O'Brien saw that it was indeed Fergus MacCrory. And thank God for it; the clock in town struck eleven and she knew her hours were limited.

"Sarah O'Brien, my God." he said, "What'en earth are ya doin' in Whitechapel this time o' night?"

"Fergus, I've got to ask you somethin' important, I'm lookin' for information about a family here. Pertains to my work at Downton. I hate to trouble ya so late in the evening, but you know I could never get away during the day."

He smiled knowingly. Sarah O'Brien had been a tough one even as a girl, and since he'd been friends with her brother, he knew that beneath her stony exterior there was a sweet lass buried there. Though, maybe the years that had passed her by had buried it deeper than he thought.

"Sarah, sure, come back to my flat. I'll make you a cuppa and we'll talk. Have to be quiet though," he said, leading her away, "The wee ones will be in bed and I don't want to wake them."

* * *

He poured her a cup of tea, the steam rising from the cup and warming her face. Or, perhaps, it was the heat of the anxiety that plagued her. She still wasn't entirely sure what she'd _do _with the information she got from Fergus, but she knew that she just had to have it - in any case, she couldn't risk being ignorant of any trouble brewing at Downton, even if it didn't directly affect her.

"What did you want to ask me about, now Sarah?" Fergus said, pouring a cup for himself, "Must be important if ya come all the way to Whitechapel late at night to find me."

"I need to know about a man named Brody- he had a wife and a daughter- Amelia."

Fergus narrowed his eyes at her, "What are the odds o' that, you're the second person to ask me about the Brody's in so many months."

O'Brien raised her eyebrows, "What? Who else has asked?"

He shrugged, "A young lass - blondey, sort o' plain, didn't look like she belonged in Whitechapel with her fine clothes and accent- she came into me shop and asked about them."

O'Brien couldn't believe her ears. If he was describing the girl right, it sounded like none other than Lady Edith. She had to smile to herself at the thought, 'twas always the quiet ones that caused the most ruckus.

"What did she say, the girl who asked?" O'Brien said, setting her tea down.

"Well, I told her what I knew about the fam and then she got flustered and bolted outta here like she had a train to catch - she probably did, too, like I said, she didn't belong here." he looked at O'Brien a moment, who was completely engrossed in what he was telling her, then he had a thought. "Sarah, was it one of the Grantham's girls? One of the daughters? Could have been, you know, would have been about the right age and certainly dressed the part."

Sighing, O'Brien fussed with her tea, "I think I know who it was, Fergus. Now I'll tell ya why I'm here and what I need to know." she paused, collecting her thoughts. "O'er the summer, Lord Grantham got a letter about a girl who'd lost her parents - a man he fought in the Boer War with, you see. Long story short, the girl came to Downton and she's still here. Her Ladyship's taken to her like a cat to a stray kitten - and I don't have a good feelin' about it, and the ladies don't either, you see, except the youngest, Lady Sybil - who is exactly like her mother and even more likely to take in a stray if given the opportunity."

"That must be why the gel came to see me, to ask about where Amelia came from. She didn't say why, but I could tell she was interested outta more than just curiosity." he looked down at his tea, "Sarah, do ye know about the Brody's? What kind o' business they run underground?"

O'Brien shook her head, "No, Fergus, that's why I'm here tonight. I wanted to find out where she come from and if I ought'a be so worried about the fact that she's living the high life at Downton."

Fergus sighed, "Her father ran a con, and the wife - sweet girl, Emmaline- she was part of it but she didn't want to be. No mother would want to bring a child into a world of poverty and crime, not a good one anyway. Amelia's a beautiful child, mane o' red hair like her mum, and they went into the city proper and peddle her good looks for money. I think Emmaline was in it, too, you know."

"What do you mean - prostitution?" O'Brien whispered, her voice harsh, "Are you sure that's what they were about?"

He nodded solemnly, " 'fraid so, the whole town knew about it, too, but no one wanted to fight it, go in and get the gel out of it you see - Brody was a hellion when he'd had too much of the bottle, which was all the time if you want to know the truth."

"Good Lord." O'Brien said, "So, she's got no parents now - but what about the con they ran, was anyone else involved in it? Anyone gonna come lookin' for her?"

Fergus stiffened, "I couldn't say for sure, Sarah, but you know how nasty those things are, and with the murders an' everythin' else we've had that's turned Whitechapel into a haven for criminals, I don't think you could be too careful. If ye had a hunch about Amelia, it's probably that she's got a trail of crime followin' her, poor thing. An' she had nothin' to say about it, but lord help her to outright it." he took a sip of his tea, which had gone lukewarm, "You think she's safe now, at Downton? Will they take care of her?"

"I think so, Ladyship likes her well enough. But they don't know a lick of any of this. As far as His Lordship's concerned, our Mr Brody was a perfect gentleman, a war veteran like him with a polished record."

"Are you goin' to tell them the truth?"

"I don't know, Fergus." she said, "I don't know what I'll do."

* * *

Cora awoke to the sensation of her hair being lovingly stroked. She smiled, still half-asleep, thinking it could only be Robert trying to persuade her awake. As she emerged from sleep, however, she felt that the hands soothing her hair were small, and a bit cold; not his strapping, warm ones. For a moment she wondered if she was still dreaming- and having a nostalgic reckoning back to when the girls were little and would crawl into bed at night after they'd had a nightmare. When she opened her eyes, she saw the wideawake Amelia looking down at her. Noticing that she'd woken her, the girl scattered to the opposite end of the bed in remorse.

"I'm sorry I woke you up, I didn't mean to." Amelia said in hushed tones.

Stretching, Cora sat up slowly, propping herself up on her elbows. "It's alright, my darling, it was a very pleasant way to be woken." she regarded the child for a moment, positioning herself with her head back against the headboard and a pillow at her back, "Did your mother used to do that for you?" she asked, patting the bed beside her. Relieved, Amelia returned to her side, cuddling up next to her and sighing loudly.

"Oh yes, she did. I miss her so much." the girl said, nuzzling into Cora's side and closing her eyes. Taking her cue, Cora began to stroke the girl's mop of red curls, gently unsnarling them with her long, elegant fingers.

"I know you do. She must have loved you so very much."

"Oh, she did." Amelia said, "I don't think my daddy did, though."

Cora furrowed her brow. She knew Amelia couldn't see the expression on her face, so she tried not to betray herself too much when she asked why.

"I can't tell you." Amelia said quietly. After a few moments of silence, she sat up and looked Cora straight in the eye, "You aren't going to take me into the city to get money, are you? I know it's almost Christmas."

Now Cora couldn't help but appear confused, "Amelia, what are you talking about? Take you into the city for money? Do you mean London?" she laughed, "Why on earth would we do anything like that? I assure you that we don't need any money from you." - she didn't add that she knew it was because, quite simply, Amelia's parents had died leaving her no money- certainly no dowry of any kind- and they hardly expected her to work until she was older.

"How do you get money,then?" Amelia asked in disbelief. "Does Lady Sybil go for you, since she's the youngest?"

"Amelia, forgive me love, I haven't a clue what you mean to say."

Her face pinked in frustration, "_Who _goes to the city with the men?" she cried, punching her fists against the bed.

Cora's jaw dropped. She couldn't think of what to say - she still wasn't entirely sure what Amelia was on about. She softened, holding her arms open. Amelia had begun to cry, her face now as red as her hair.

"Come, now, darling, come here."

As she heaved against Cora's chest, Amelia suddenly began to fear that her time at Downton was limited. Now that she had been there several months, and especially since the holidays were fast approaching, if she wasn't going to be of any use to them - then what reason did they have to keep her? When they had said that she wouldn't be a maid, that she'd just be a little girl, she figured that they would make her work like she did in Whitechapel. So what now, if not that, did they have planned for her? What if it was worse? She knew nothing of their life, and what horrors might lie before her at Downton.

There was a light rap on the door and Anna opened the door.

"Your Ladyship, O'Brien's ill this morning, she asked me to come up and ready you for breakfast, if you don't mind." As she stepped into the room, she noticed Amelia on the bed and stepped back, "Oh, m'lady, I'm sorry to interrupt. I can come back."

Amelia pulled away from Cora and scurried off the bed, leaping down and running out of the room, past Anna, and down the hall. A few moments later, they heard the door to the nursery door slam.

Before she could even lift her voice to call after her, the child had disappeared from the room as mysteriously as she had appeared in the bed.

"Is Amelia alright?" Anna said, going to Cora's vanity.

"Oh, Anna. I'm not sure. She's upset and asking me about whether or not we will send her into the city for money? Something about going with the men?"

The color drained from Anna's face. Suddenly she thought about O'Brien's escape to Whitechapel in the night. She wondered what, if anything, she'd learned.

"Anyway, O'Brien's ill?" Cora asked, throwing back the covers and stepping out of bed.

"Oh, just a bit of a cold." Anna said, forcing a smile, "Now, how would you like your hair today?"

* * *

On the train back to Downton, O'Brien nervously bit her fingernails and tried to decide who- if anyone- she would tell about Amelia's past. If Edith knew, best guesses meant she had told Mary. No doubt the two were scheming something, which was probably why they hadn't had a major row in weeks, which was reason enough to think something was up between them. She couldn't trust Anna, who was a blabbermouth about anything that made her heartache, softie that she was. And though she'd probably tell Thomas for the thrill, she knew that he would take pride in telling the rest of the staff, and she didn't want that, not yet. Sitting back against the seat, she closed her eyes and hoped to drift off. Without proper sleep, the day before her would be a long one. Deep down, she already knew the answer to the question of who, at Downton, she could tell about Amelia's precarious past. She'd have to tell Her Ladyship.

* * *

Back at Downton, Robert was having breakfast in the dining room with Mary and Edith. Cora had yet to join them, as she was still getting ready in her room, and Sybil had finished already and rushed off to write a letter - _Maybe she's got a suitor, _Edith had said, _Oh hardly, _Mary had scoffed, _Even the census taker hides from Sybil and her passionate political opinions. _

Cora entered, leaning down to kiss Robert's cheek as she went to collect herself some toast and jam.

"Good morning, darling, did you sleep alright?" Robert asked, buttering his toast.

Cora joined them, sighing. "Despite our visitor, yes, I did. Thank you."

Mary raised a skeptical eyebrow, "A visitor? Am I to assume you're talking about our little boarder?"

"Mary," Cora said, her voice low and disapproving, "Amelia is quite troubled about something and I do think it's effecting her sleep." she eyed the girls for a moment, "It wouldn't have to do with either of you, would it?"

Pretending to look wounded, Mary put her hand to her chest, "Mama, why would we say anything to her? We're truly thrilled she's here."

"Mary, watch your tone." Robert said, looking up at her.

"This morning she was teary eyed and prattled on about us taking her into the city for money? To see the men in the city? The child has some kind of whimsical fantasy about it and I rather say she's distraught at the prospect."

Edith dropped her fork with a clank and everyone looked at her.

"Edith, darling, are you alright?" Robert asked.

"So, she's already told you then?" Edith said, leaning back in her chair, "How tragic, really. I'm sorry to have had ill feelings towards her, it was all out of her control of course."

"Edith what are you talking about?" Robert said.

Edith looked at Cora, "Mama, she told you then. About the prostitution?"

Robert nearly choked on his tea. Cora's mouth hung agape and Mary, who usually was skilled at hiding her feelings, allowed her face to contort into a disgusted grimace.

"Prostitution?" Robert barked, "Edith Crawley what in God's name has gotten into you? Why would you even suggest such a thing? Amelia's father was an upstanding man, and to sit here and hear you make such a despicable allegation-" he stood up and banged his fists against the table, "I will _not _stand for it!"

"Papa, you think you know this man but you're mistaken. You don't know anything at all about him!"

Both of them looked at Cora, who had stood up, tears glistening in her eyes. "If you'll excuse me I'm going to go upstairs. I am feeling ill and am no longer interested in breakfast."

She hurried out of the room and Robert turned back to Edith as he rushed after her, "We aren't finished, Edith. I am going to make sure your Mama is okay but if you so much as think about leaving the breakfast table before I promise you there will be grave consequences."

As her parents rushed out of the breakfast room, Edith sunk slowly back down into her chair. Beside her, Mary exhaled loudly.

"My God, Edith." she said, picking up her tea cup, "I do think this is the first time in Crawley history where _you_ have managed to upset father worse than me."

_**A/N:**__ Wow, ten chapters! Thank you to all who have been reading, reviewing and keeping me so engrossed in telling Amelia's story. I know that it's extremely unlikely anything like this would ever be canon, as it wouldn't ever be a feasible story in the Dowtonverse, but I really wanted to explore the social conditions of the time period, especially for children who were not from aristocratic families, and Amelia sort of personifies the struggles of the period in a way that none of the Downton girls would have ever been keenly aware of. I think, at least I hope, that the plight of a child in such a situation would bring together the upstairs and downstairs - but, as you know, O'Brien is a master at stirring up trouble, so to see if this is what plays out you'll just have to keep reading! _:-O 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"Anna!"

Turning toward the voice that had hushed her name from the hallway, Anna nearly missed a step, which would have surely sent her and the mountain of laundry she had in her arms flying.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're back safely!" Anna said, turning to O'Brien.

"Has Lady Edith finished breakfast yet?" O'Brien said curtly, looking above Anna's head and down the hall.

"I'm not sure, but I saw her Ladyship head into her room moments ago, followed swiftly by his Lordship, so, I imagine breakfast is over."

O'Brien sighed, "Very well. I need a word with Lady Edith."

"Is anything the matter?" Anna asked, leaning in to O'Brien, "I worry for you. I know you don't care much for me, but I can't help but worry for your safety when you go off in the middle of the night to Whitechapel of all places!"

"Oh, jumpin' Jesus, Anna." O'Brien said under her breath, "Keep your voice down, would ya?"

Anna flushed. "Did you tend to whatever it was you needed to tend to?"

"Aye," O'Brien said, "Got myself in quite the nasty jar now, though."

Holding the linens closer to her chest, Anna sighed, "I don't suppose there's anything more I can do to help you out of it?"

"I don't know yet. After I talk to Lady Edith, p'raps."

Anna opened her mouth to speak but both women startled as they heard the door to her Ladyship's bedroom slam shut. Robert stood then before them, looking rather ghastly. Certainly not having planned to be thrust out of his wife's bedroom into the sights of her lady's maid and a housemaid, his face immediately pinked up in embarrassment.

O'Brien and Anna both lowered their gaze and slunk off down the hallway. Robert exhaled, his face hot with a peculiar combination of anger and humiliation and he found his voice, though it cracked, to call after O'Brien.

"If you would, O'Brien, her Ladyship would benefit from a nice, hot bath."

Perturbed that she could no longer pursue her plan, O'Brien acqueisced, "Certainly, your Lordship." and she gave Anna a warning glance before striding past her down the hall and disappearing behind her Ladyship's bedroom door. Robert composed himself and headed downstairs, Anna on his tails. She had to speak to Lady Edith - and fast.

Sybil had been thumbing through newspapers and magazines she'd begged Rosamond to send her from the city - all of which had, if you dug deep enough, mentions of what was called "prostitution." On the far side, as far from Downton as one could get, existed this life for women called The Great Social Evil. Though she had, of course, heard _of _the idea, she had certainly never felt so close to it as she had when Amelia had made implications of it in her story. Sybil figured, of course, that the girl must be mistaken. While her mother could have well been one of these quiffs, surely a little girl would never be permitted to engage in such activities! Why in the world would anyone even think of it? As she leafed through all the "research", she began to create a picture in her mind of what Amelia's life must have been like, and it deeply hurt her. She knew that her life, being the daughter of an Earl, was a charmed one, but she hated to think that just because she was lucky enough to be born into a life of luxury that it meant she had to be completely ignorant to the suffering in the world. After all, she and her sisters were hardly the majority. They didn't live like most people did.

Her studies were interrupted by a knock at her door. She stuffed the clippings in her vanity and called for them to enter.

"Sybil, may I have a word?" her father said, entering her bedroom. She thought it odd to see him - usually he was out on the estate by now with Isis.

"What is it, Papa?" she said, turning toward him.

Robert sat down on her bed gingerly, "I must ask you something about Amelia. I know you have grown quite close to her since she arrived at Downton."

Sybil smiled, "Yes, I really care for Amelia a great deal. She's very special to me."

"Well, I know, and you are clearly special to her as well." Robert wrung his hands, "I'm wondering if she has confided in you, about. . .about what her life was like before she came to Downton. Before her parents died."

Sybil pursed her lips and thought carefully - was he asking because he already knew or because he suspected? She felt her heart flutter in her chest. She had promised Amelia she wouldn't speak of what was shared in the library that day. But it wasn't just anyone asking - it was her Papa. And he surely wouldn't ask as the result of some uncouth curiosity or immoral plot.

"She's shared a few things with me," Sybil said, "Why do you ask?"

"After you left the breakfast table this morning, Edith shared something unsettling with us about Amelia. I don't know how or why she knew, or even if what she knew was true, but it has greatly upset your Mama. She has all but thrown me out of her room and is inconsolable. I'm hoping that you can shed some light on what Edith said, at least - at least tell me if it is true."

_Edith? _Sybil thought, furrowing her brow. She had naturally expected Mary to be the one to say something to upset their parents so. She looked down at her hands, which had grown cold. They trembled slightly.

"Papa, Amelia did mention something to me that is, I admit, quite an unsettling thought. She has implied that her mother may have been - a, well, a woman with rather peculiar means of earning a wage that I must admit I am struggling to understand. What pains me further about it all is that Amelia had also implied that she, too, was involved in the practice in some way - which seems impossible to me, though she is still quite young and perhaps she is confused, as I am, about what her mother did."

Robert's face fell. "Oh, Sybil."

Before he could say anything else, a small voice piped up from the doorway- which had been left ajar when Robert entered the room just moments before.

"You promised you wouldn't tell!" Amelia shrilled, "Sybil, you promised!"

Sybil looked up and saw just a flash of the girl's tear streaked face, as the wild mane of red hair disappeared from the slant in the door and raced down the hallway. Leaving her father, Sybil rose and ran after her. Left uncertain and decidedly helpless, Robert simple sat and let his face fall into his hands.

* * *

"Are you feeling better O'Brien?" Cora asked from the steaming bath. O'Brien had just turned off the faucet and was now gathering up the discarded linens, hustling to be on her way so that she could find Lady Edith.

"I am, your Ladyship. Kind of you to ask" she said, moving toward the door, "If that'll be all I'll go lay out your clean clothes and take these linens down to be washed?"

Cora studied her a moment - she seemed unusually preoccupied. O'Brien was a devoted Lady's Maid, there was no doubt about that. Though she always conducted herself with deliberate and calculated moves about the room, so it troubled Cora to see her be so distracted and, dare she say it, unkempt.

"It is, O'Brien, but may I ask if there is something the matter this morning? Has something happened? I know it is hardly my place to go prying into your personal affairs but I do hope that if you required anything at all from us, you would feel safe in asking. If you are ill or need to travel to see your family, anything of that nature, we would certainly try to accommodate you."

O'Brien steadied herself, internally chasting herself for allowing her Ladyship to see that she had other things upon her mind. Not wanting to further pull back the veil on her doings, she tightened her face and straightened her spine, "I appreciate the though, m'Lady, but I assure you nothing is amiss. Just a bit of a headache, that's all."

Cora smiled empathetically. She too, no doubt, had a headache and her face was still sallow from the tears she had been shedding when O'Brien had entered her bedchambers to draw her a bath. She'd had a row with his Lordship, though hadn't divulge what of, and of course O'Brien would never dream of asking. She only supposed it had something to do with one of the girls, probably Mary, as it were.

"That'll be all for now, O'Brien. Go have a cup of tea." Cora said, brushing a wisp of hair out of her eyes. O'Brien departed and a few moments later she heard the door to her bedroom softly shut. Lying back and closing her eyes, she relaxed into quietness and the steam of the bath calmed her frayed nerves. Almost on cue, she heard footsteps and a gentle rap on the door. Without opening her eyes, her brow furrowed, _God help me, what of it? _She thought bitterly.

"Cora, it's me." said a voice.

Robert.

She wasn't sure she even wanted to see him - they had just had a particularly bad row. It wasn't like them to have such heated exchanges. In his frustration, he had said that he wished he'd never agreed to take in Amelia, and that he was merely threads away from sending her back to the foundling home - and Cora had met his frustration with raw hurt and disappointment, lashing out at him in return and accusing him of being heartless - and hypocritical. She had gone so far as to throw a pillow at him, which she had picked up from the bed and whaled at him in one shift and unexpected motion. He had left, shocked at her outburst, and she, equally as shocked at herself had sunk down onto the bed in tears- which is how O'Brien had found her moments later.

She hadn't answered, but Robert pushed into the bathroom anyhow. Usually he knew enough to leave her be if she was taking a bath in the middle of the day- something she reserved only for her monthlies or particularly bad headaches, but he couldn't up but be aware that the cause of her headache today had been him, and he desperately wanted to rectify it. Especially after his conversation with Sybil.

"Cora, I'm sorry." he said, shutting the door behind him and walking over to the bath. He loomed over her, but his face was kind and devoid of his usual boyish impunity.

Cora allowed her eyes to flicker open, though the heat of the room had rendered her sleepy. "I'm sorry too, Robert. Especially about throwing the pillow."

Robert chuckled, "It did rather take me by surprise." He knelt down next to the tub and pushed up his sleeve, dipping his hand into the water to stroke her arm. "I have just had a brief but very revealing conversation with Sybil about Amelia. It would seem that the girl had already shared this information with her- though I am afraid now, that trust may have been shattered. Amelia overheard Sybil and I discussing it and now she thinks that Sybil had, in a sense, ratted her out to us. She is far to young to understand the maze that this secret has created at Downton, and I am afraid that the one, true ally she had found in Sybil has now been irreparably tainted."

Cora's eyes, which were still moistened from her earlier crying, welled up again effortlessly. Tears fell lazily from them and she tried to blink them away.

"I feel that we have failed in so many respects, Robert. We have failed our girls, we've failed Amelia - and if our earlier exchange was any indication we are desperately close to failing ourselves."

Robert lifted his wife's damp hand from the tepid water and kissed it. "We've got to find a way to repent, then. Not just for Downton, but for Amelia as well."

Cora let her head fall back against the porcelain tub once again. Her eyes closed for a moment, and her face turned thoughtful, "Do you suppose there are others? Out in the East End? Amelia's age or a little older?"

Robert shrugged, "My darling I can only imagine there are far more than we would ever know about. That world is entirely removed from the one we live in."

"I'm thankful for it," Cora said, letting her eyes flutter open, "But even Downton couldn't shield our daughters from the injustices of the world."

Sighing, Robert lowered Cora's hand back into the water and stood, leaning down to kiss her forehead before he straightened up, "Yes," he said, "That was our responsibility."

* * *

Edith had sequestered herself to the library, rather dejectedly, and a now gone cold cup of tea sat untouched on her lap. She hadn't meant to reveal Amelia's secret after all - so why should she feel so guilty? Perhaps she had been too insensitive. It was a dreadful topic and it had nearly sent her poor Mama to bed with its indecency. Still, there was a tangible sense of relief, a weight lifted, now that the truth was out. She only hoped that it would not unravel the fabric that so had always so tightly bound her family together. She would hate to have been the cause of all that.

"Lady Edith, may I have a word?"

It was Anna, the housemaid, who had soundlessly entered the library and witnessed Edith deep in her reverie. She smiled invitingly and nodded,

"Yes, Anna, what is it?"

"Lady Edith, I don't want to involve myself where I should not, but I think O'Brien has uncovered some information - something as it pertains to you and something you might know about Amelia, and I wanted to warn you -"

Just then, O'Brien appeared in the doorway, her face dark with anger.

"I heard my name, Anna, can I be of help?" she said, shooting glares at her. Anna, who gone completely mum, looked helplessly at Lady Edith. Of course, Edith now knew that the entire staff must know as well what Amelia had been on about and she realized that it was now up to her to confirm it - and that surely, in doing so, the news would reach much farther than the grounds of Downton. If it hadn't already.

**A/N Hi guys! So, I'm heading on vacation for a week but I did want to give a little something before I go. I hope that I'll have even more time to write since I'll have time off - thank you for sticking with this story and leaving wonderful comments on here and Tumblr as well! xxxx**


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